


Shuffle 50

by ZoudiazZoe



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Gods (Percy Jackson), Artist Nico di Angelo, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, BPD, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drug Withdrawal, Hades is trying to be a good dad, Implied/Referenced Incest, Incest, M/M, Nico di Angelo Is Alone, Nico di Angelo is Bad at Feelings, Nico is 16, Nico is borderline, Past Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Percy Jackson has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Percy is 19-20
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 17:34:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17207849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoudiazZoe/pseuds/ZoudiazZoe
Summary: Percy Jackson noticed then just how dark, and lost Nico’s sparkling eyes were. More than an underage doing drugs, he looked like a painting himself. Something took out of the renaissance perception of what a fallen angel looked like.Pale skin, freckles shining serenely in contrast with the dim light of the apartment; thin complexion, raven hair falling gracefully in gentle waves …. And that devilish, yet somehow innocent smile plastered in his face.He jerked his head. Percy tossed the pill into his mouth and promptly swallowed.“Welcome to Ecstasy,” Nico said as he smirked knowingly.





	Shuffle 50

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Notedigo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notedigo/gifts), [Francis Mbx](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Francis+Mbx).



> Happy New Year!!!! Don't do drugs! (No, seriously, don't do them. Unless your therapist allows you to.)
> 
> I've been writing this for 4 months now ... I think, I'm bad at math.
> 
> Ok, so if you're reading this before jumping into the fic, I truly appreciate it. It is also necessary. The reason I started this was because for the first time in my life I watched the video of Rihanna where she and her boyfriend are drug addicts, and I could only think about Percy and Nico. I don't know how the story ended like this. Honestly, I have no idea.
> 
> Also, the drugs mentioned in here come from a YouTube channel called DrugsLab (you don't want to know how many hours I spent watching their videos for the research and selection of the drugs I decided to use in here.)  
> They are a group of Dutch guys that try drugs so you don't have to. The only drugs I wrote about but didn't watch a video were LSD, Heroin (I think they don't have a video about Heroin. Anyway, I did a research about those two), and marijuana (that one I smoke it, so what you'll read about weed in here is based on my own experiences.)  
> This work was not Beta'd, if anyone wants to volunteer to do that job, I'll gladly accept it. (Believe me, I was looking for a Beta, but no one offered.) Feel free to point any mistakes you find.
> 
>  
> 
> I'm posting the list of songs Percy and Nico add. I also created list on Spotify with the same name 'Shuffle 50.' (I'd post it in here, but I don't know how to.) I mixed fanon and canon Nico in order to add his songs, since he's canonically a fan of Techno Pop, and most Techno Pop songs are in Japanese, I took the liberty to add one or two songs of my own favorite band #SorryNotSorry
> 
> Kings and Queens
> 
> Nico:  
> Zombie  
> Monster  
> The Phoenix  
> Flaws  
> Bones  
> This is Gospel  
> Madness  
> Young God  
> Fantasy  
> Him & I  
> Control  
> Icarus  
> Glory and Gore  
> Can’t help falling in Love  
> Numb  
> Bring me to life  
> The Anthem  
> Nicotine  
> Scars  
> The devil within  
> Beat drop  
> Required Malfunction  
> Flesh  
> The suicide circus
> 
> Percy:  
> Kill your heroes  
> Flashlight  
> Alone Together  
> Wake me Up  
> Mr. Brightside  
> How to save a life  
> Viva La Vida  
> Hall of Fame  
> My bloody Valentine  
> Everybody’s fool  
> Starlight  
> Shot at the Night  
> Psycho  
> Do I wanna Know?  
> This is war  
> Centuries  
> Ghost  
> Monsters  
> Immortals  
> Iris  
> Face down  
> Like toy soldiers  
> Kiss the girl  
> Crawling

**I.**  
  
  
Percy’s life has never been easy. His mother had married an abusive pig; he didn’t know who his father was until he turned 13, and that was because Smelly Gabe—his stepfather— messed up by hitting him so hard he ended up in the hospital. He had ADHD and was dyslexic. His biological father, who was filthy rich and belonged to a crazy family cursed by inbreeding, tried to take him away from his mom. And neither of them were having that.  
Percy’s been kicked off of more schools than he can remember. The boy he liked killed himself four years ago (Percy was 15 at the time.), and now his long-term girlfriend and best friend broke up with him.  
Apparently, Percy needed time to heal his PTSD. (He did not suffer from PTSD. Or so he tried to convince himself.) And she needed time to heal from the stress it was causing her.  
  
Many would say that becoming a rich kid at age 13 was a wonderful thing. It was not.  
He was a bastard, and his father had a family of his own. A wife, who happened to be Poseidon’s first cousin or something like that, and a son (the heir) who, if you asked Percy, looked like a globe fish. That was the problem with families that were ‘old-money’, they had weird customs. And they tried to drag Percy along.  
Either way, he was 19 years-old and he had yet to spend equal time with both his parents, even if he only wanted to be with his mom.  
He just wanted a moment of peace and quiet. If he could just forget everything for more than an hour he’d be happy. It didn’t matter if that happiness was induced and lasted a short period of time. He was done.  
  
That’s how he found himself in front of an apartment building in Bushwick. He heaved a sigh before ringing the bell. Percy took a piece of paper out of his front pocket, just to clarify he had read it correctly.  
That was the address. So far so good, now he just needed to know if the person he was looking for truly lived there. The front door burst open and a man exited, Percy flinched.  
“Excuse me,” he tried. The man glanced at him. “I’m looking for Nico di Angelo.”  
  
“The faggot lives on the third floor,” it was the moment when Percy realized that the man seemed to be mad and out of himself.“You his new fuck boy?”  
  
Percy swallowed hard, he was starting to think it had been a bad idea after all. “N-no, I just wanted—“  
  
“You a client then?” Percy nodded too eagerly for his own good. “Knock three times.” And the man was gone. The 19-years-old entered the building as fast as possible, not waiting for him to come back.  
  
A lean and tall teenager all in black opened the door. His hair was dark and messy, his skin was pale and he had bags under his eyes. He received Percy with a scowl. “I’m sorry, I knocked on the wrong door again.”  
  
The teenager growled, of course, he’d be mad if a stranger disturbed him because he couldn’t find the place he was looking for. “I bet you didn’t,” his voice was raspy, a little bit annoyed. He leaned on the door frame. Percy looked at him confused.  
  
“Does Nico di Angelo live here?” He had to try. The boy smirked, and let him in without saying a word. (Or so Percy thought because he just walked back inside without closing the door.) Percy followed cautiously.  
  
“Close the door,” he commanded. Percy did as told, not wanting to make things worse for him. He was in an unexplored territory for his own sake.  
The place was a mess. There were sheets of paper scattered everywhere, pencils, brushes, notebooks and more of the likes. It was as if an artist going through a block lived there and not a drug dealer.  
  
“So,” started the boy again. He was sitting on a table, a pack of Marlboro in his right hand, and a lighter on the other. “How may I assist you?” Percy realized his voice possessed an accent he couldn’t quite place.  
  
“I told you, I’m looking for Nico di Angelo.” The black-haired boy laughed at him.  
  
“I am Nico di Angelo, mio caro.”  
  
What?  
Nico lit a cigarette, while he kept staring at Percy.  
  
“B—but I thought,” he started.“I thought Nico di Angelo was an Italian man.” This time, Nico’s laugh was not amused.  
  
“Believe me, I am Italian,” the boy with raven hair unbuttoned singlehanded his jeans, and peeked inside.“And certainly, I’m a man.” He then smirked wickedly. “You want to check for yourself?”  
Percy blushed, he shook his head way too fast.  
  
“That’s not what I meant,” he groaned, embarrassed. This had to be a prank. “You look— you’re too young for a dealer.” Nico’s eyes snapped at that. There was a kind of fire in them that scared Percy.  
  
“First of all, I’m not a fucking dealer,” his voice was somber. It was heavy with anger and distrust. “Secondly, if my age bothers you so much, why are you even here?” His free hand went to his back, Percy feared for his life. Was he going to get rid of him? What was it going to be? A knife? Or a gun?  
Something was tossed at him; it was like a small notebook. A red one with golden letters no the cover. He crunched down to pick it up.  
  
It was a passport; he understood nothing of what was written on it. But he read a name (Nicolò di Angelo), he read a birth date, and if his maths were not failing him. Nico just turned 16 past January. He was three years younger than Percy. No! He was four years younger than him … he’d worry about that later. And the picture….  
That picture looked nothing like him. The boy in it was smiling brightly. His skin was not that pale, it was kind of an olive tone, and he had more meat in those cheeks. His eyes were like chocolate fudge, and he had freckles. Percy looked up. The freckles were still there. (There was a nagging feeling in his throat. He’s seen this boy before.)  
  
He coughed, trying to break the silence that settled between them. Percy closed the passport and handed it back to Nico.  
“If someone gave you my name and address,” he took a drag of his cigarette while retrieving his passport. “It means it must be serious,” he let it out in a slow exhalation. The Italian nodded at a small couch. It was close to the white table Nico had been on, Percy followed. He investigated the couch with his eyes. No needles, no syringes, he sat down once he deemed it ‘safe.’  
“Tell me your story,—“  
  
“Percy,” he said. “Percy Jackson.” He couldn’t see it, but by the change in expression, it seemed like Nico cocked a brow. It was a funny sight.  
  
“Well, Percy,” Nico dragged his words, dropping the vowels (he noticed.). “What can I do for you?”  
  
Percy told him something about him. He didn’t trust a stranger with his full life-story. Yet, Nico listened, and like a sponge, he absorbed the information. He didn’t comment, he didn’t ask nor pushed for more. He just remained against the window, listening.  
When he finally finished talking about Annabeth and their break-up, Nico hummed.  
“How much do you love her?” The question made him angry. It was a touchy subject.  
  
“I love her with my whole life!” He spat. Nico made that face again, if only his hair wasn’t in the way.  
  
“Oh, did you _love_ her?” Nico asked again. And Percy almost saw red. Before he could say something, Nico went at it again. “Tell me, Percy. Is it love or _love_?” There was something different in Nico’s voice, in the way he ‘phrased’ them, as if … as if the word love had different meanings or implications.  
  
“Would you help me or not?!”  
  
Nico walked toward him, hand extended. “Lend me your phone for a minute,” Percy doubted. Nico never retreated his hand, and he gave in. He hooked for his phone and gave it to Nico. “Unlocked,” he sighed, almost annoyed.  
Percy grabbed his blue iPhone and unlocked, then he gave it back to the Italian. He watched him warily, as he started looking, and then typing.  
“As I told you before, I’m not a dealer,” he never made eye contact with him. He was too busy scrolling and pressing, and doing gods know what. “But I may help you out so you don’t kill yourself in the first try.  
“Like a babysitter.” Nico clarified.“Also, I got all the good stuff, so no worries about that.”  
He watched him walk back to the window. He grabbed the half of the cigar he left resting on the windowsill and lit it again. Percy grimaced.  
  
Nico tossed Percy’s phone back at him. He took a long drag of his cigarette. Let it go and proceeded. “I just gave you my Spotify account, and created a playlist,” his dark eyes were fixated on him. “I added my top 25, and I hope you add yours.  
“We’re going to hit Shuffle, if it lands on one of my songs, I’ll buy you ice cream and you will deal with your issues like a normal teenager.  
“If the one playing is yours, I’ll give you whatever drug you want to forget your pain.” The Italian boy took another drag of his cigar before throwing the butt throughout the window.  
  
“Why are you so adamant in keeping me sober?” Percy asked. He had a lot of questions, and that cryptic boy seemed like he would answer none of them. Yet, he had to try. It felt like Nico always had a motive, something cooking up his sleeve. It was giving Percy chills.  
  
“You are too young, handsome, and you look like you have a life to live,” he shrugged. “Wouldn’t want to throw that away with all this shit, would we? Drugs are not the answer.”  
  
“You are a hypocrite,” Percy spat.  
  
“I never claimed otherwise,” Nico took another cigarette from his package. He looked back at Percy and pointed to the blue cell phone. “So, you playing?”  
And there was that smile again. The sea-green eyed boy didn’t need this crap. He came out looking for Nico di Angelo because he heard he had the best stuff and didn’t charge much. Percy could just look for any other dealer in New York. They were plenty!  
But that damned smile. Percy looked down at his phone and started adding songs. He bit down a laugh when he realized the name of the playlist was ‘Shuffle 50’.  
  
“One of my favorite songs is already in here.” That sparked something in Nico’s eyes.  
  
“Really? Which one?” For the excitement glimmering on those brown eyes of his, he sure acted really composed and calm.  
  
“‘ **Kings and Queens** ’.” The Italian barked a laugh, but Percy was not having it. “What do we do if the Shuffle lands on that one?”  
  
“We go out,” Nico smirked, Percy laughed.  
  
_  
  
  
Nico had dismissed him after their ‘agreement.’ He said he had things to do, but he would see him on Friday at 3:30.  
Percy was outside his apartment, he had already knocked and was only waiting for the Italian to open the door. The 19-years-old was not sure of what was going to happen, but he’s made his decision. He even skipped his last class at College in order to arrive on time.  
The raven-haired opened the door and signaled to enter. Percy swallowed, this was his own free will, no one was forcing him. He wanted bliss and void. If possible both at the same time.  
  
“It came on time,” Nico said. “We could have actually done this on Wednesday. Let’s see if you’re lucky.” Percy rolled his eyes; it wasn’t funny. He had agreed, but it was a tricky situation.  
  
“I meant to ask you,” started Percy. “If you’re not a dealer, what are you? Why do you do this?”  
  
Nico only huffed, he was playing on his phone. Then he handed it to Percy. “Alabaster calls me a Trip-sitter.” He didn’t explain who Alabaster was because he knew that Percy knew him—it was his little sister, Lou Ellen, who gave Percy Nico’s contact information after all.  
Percy didn’t push, he at least answered to one of his questions. Percy sighed and pressed Shuffle. The music started, ‘ **Kill your heroes** ’ was playing.  
  
“Seems like we’re doing this,” he smirked, Nico rolled his eyes. He took his cell phone back and placed it on the windowsill. He never stopped the music.  
“Do you have any idea about drugs? Besides what they tell you in School?” Percy shook his head in response. “Figures,” Nico thought about it. “Let’s mend your broken heart, then.” He patted Percy on his shoulder.  
  
He walked to a small nightstand; Nico took off a plastic bag filled with white powder from it. “Cocaine?” Asked Percy. The Italian shook his head; he placed the bag on the table. He opened another drawer from his nightstand and meticulously he reached for a glass-like cutting board that was inside of a Ziploc. After that, he grabbed a small scale, like the ones his mom used when she was baking.  
“This,” started Nico as he poured some of the white powder on the scales. “This is called Ketamine,” he weighed it cautiously. Once he seemed satisfied with the results he moved to take off his cutting board out of the Ziploc bag. “It will help you dissociate, like antidepressants, but stronger.”  
  
Percy observed him place the measured drug on the clean crystal, he wondered why he divided it into three fine lines. Percy wondered if the Italian was taking his time more for aesthetic effects, or because he wanted him to lose his temper and leave. Percy frowned, but it disappeared the moment Nico gave him a small and golden straw. It was metallic, and it wasn’t considerably larger than his own thumb.  
“Listen carefully, Percy. Never do more than 100mg.” Nico said, he seemed somber. “We don’t want you to end up in a 'K-Hole’.” Percy tightened the grip of the straw-like thing and walked toward the table. Three lines of white powder, neatly accommodated with a razor blade were staring back at him. He felt a lump in his throat. Was he really doing this? “Take it in stages to enhance the effects. I will measure the time to tell you when to snort the next dose.”  
  
“How many mg are in here?” Percy swallowed, but his throat was dry. He looked at it closely, the Ketamine looked more like crystal powder than chalk, as he had thought. And it smelled awfully like his Chemistry classroom, if not worse.  
“Only 30.” Nico patted his shoulder; he had that smirk on him. Percy started to hate it. More now because it was challenging him.  
It couldn’t be that hard, he’s seen movies of how people inhale—no, snort cocaine all the time. He went straight for the first line.  
  
FUCK!  
It hurt his nose.  
  
Nico laughed. That bastard! Percy tried to soothe his aching nose. It really was a nasty feeling. “I feel nothing,” he claimed, a matter of fact.  
“It’s a drug, not a miracle, Jackson!” Nico rolled his eyes at him. “It usually kicks in 5 or 15 minutes. So take your time.”  
' **Alone Together** ' was now blasting on the speakers of Nico’s cellphone. Nico was smoking languidly, his back was against the frame of his window, but his eyes were on Percy. It wasn’t until the song finished when he perceived it.  
Everything around him started going in slow motion, it was as if he were back in a boat in Montauk. He stared down. “Wow!” he breathed. “Were my arms always this long?” He heard Nico chuckle. Percy didn’t care, he was going to enjoy this, forget about everything and have a boost. Didn’t Nico say it was a drug used for depression anyway?  
  
“Indeed, it is,” he was startled when Nico answered the question he thought he had thought. Damn! Now he was laughing at his expense. “You might want to sit down for a while.” Percy followed, not because the Italian said he would, but because he could feel his feet getting numb. “Whatever makes you feel better, Jackson.”  
Dammit!  
  
He didn’t know what song was playing, but he could feel himself being dragged by it. Were all the songs usually this long? Because he knew that ‘ **Zombie** ’ lasted 5 minutes or so, but he could swear the song’s been playing for 30. And no, it hasn’t been repeated. Everything was spinning.  
Nico stood up from his bean chair. He knew because he was in front of Percy now. “It’s been 29 minutes, time for the next dose.” Even Nico was spinning.  
He followed the younger male to table, and he went for it. Once again, his nose hurt, although it was not as much as the first time.  
  
He paced around the place. It was messy but not dirty. He couldn’t believe he was in the place of a drug addict at all. Yeah! It was messy. There were papers, sketchbooks, paint tubes, brushes, and the likes around. Nico didn’t have much in the apartment, just the bare necessities, it seemed. A couple of stools (one bigger than the other), two wooden chairs, the table where he had placed their drugs, a nightstand next to it. And a couch on the other side.  
He also had a desk next to the door he presumed was the bathroom.  
He tried to ground himself, but it was impossible for everything seemed really high. Nico tried to make small talk once every few minutes. It failed miserably. Percy couldn’t make his brain work as he wanted to.  
“It feels like,” he paused. “As if my brain is leaving my head. Know what I mean?” Nico only nodded, or he thought he nodded. “I can’t think straight.”  
  
“You better lie down,” Nico’s hand was on his shoulder. “Unless you prefer to dance to Bastille.” Dancing sounded nice, but his limbs were numb. So damn numb. Percy couldn’t entrust them.  
He reached a point where he allowed his eyes to close. He could have sworn he had them closed. Nevertheless he was able to see, there were just a lot of visuals running in his closed eyes. He couldn’t remember if he wanted the last dose, so far, Nico hadn’t invited him to take it. So he was good. Especially because he felt in the dentist. It was like reliving the anesthesia the doctor injected him before taking his molars out.  
  
He opened his eyes once and found Nico staring down at him. Their faces were so close, like Naruto and Sasuke's before the Uchiha left the Village. Ha! Weird comparison his brain created. Nico’s chocolate eyes were shiny and cute.  
“Your eyes are no longer blurry,” the artist said. “Go home, Percy.” The younger assisted him to stand. He was already missing the floor. He handed him the metallic straw back. “This is yours now.” Percy, confused, took it.

  
“Isn’t it yours?”

  
“Nope,” he said, “Your snorter is yours, and you should never share it with anyone.” Nico escorted Percy to the door. “Prepare yourself for a nasty headache, and probably nausea.” Those were the last words Nico said before he closed the door in his nose. Rude.  
  
Just like the Italian said, he had a headache that barely allowed him to sleep. He was thirsty too, that he didn't mention to him. Nausea didn’t come until the morning. He was actually hoping he’d not get it.  
He went down the stairs of his father’s house to the kitchen. His wife threw him a nasty look, and his half-brother, Triton, barely acknowledge his presence. Only Poseidon nodded at him Percy ignored him.  
One more day and he could go to his mom, one more day, and then he will spend 7 days with Sally Jackson.  
  
“Good morning, son,” Poseidon greeted. Percy just shrugged it off.  
  
“Morning,” he said to no one in particular. He served himself some fruit and a toast. The rest of the family’s breakfast made his stomach churn, and his esophagus widened in disgust.  
Percy spent more time playing with his fruit than eating it. He felt so bad, but he had actually enjoyed it. He did not ask Nico when he could go see him again.  
He wanted to go today, but his father’s family had plans, and he had to attend.  
  
_  
  
  
When they arrived at the restaurant. The first persons Percy spotted were Jason and Thalia Grace, both children of Zeus and Hera (siblings-spouses), the head of the Grace family, and his cousins. The only ones he liked, aside Hazel, of course. Hazel was cinnamon roll and he would fight to defend her honor if necessary.  
He hugged Jason and greeted Thalia. The siblings could not be more different.  
Thalia was older than the two of them, she had white skin, freckles —a thing that apparently ran un the family—, electric-blue eyes, messy black hair styled in a cool under-cut. Hera almost fainted when she saw it, and she had a strand of hair dyed bluely. She was also really short, even Hazel being 15 was taller than her.  
  
Jason, on the other hand, was a golden boy. He was blond, polite. A soft blue colored his eyes, he was broad and tall. Man! He was taller than Percy and younger than him, how did it even work? His hair was cut short, almost military style, and he had a scar on his lip. Rumor has it, that he tried to eat a stapler when he was still a baby. Jason kept denying that story until this day.  
  
“I heard what happened with Chase, tough luck, Perce,” Thalia commented out of the blue. She was rubbing salt in his wound. Jason nudged at her, and she shut up.

  
“Sorry about that man.” He apologetically said, he actually seemed like he meant it. And of course, he meant it, he was a ray of sunshine in the shape of a Roman soldier. Percy breathed in, he breathed out, and he smiled.  
  
“It’s ok, it will pass,” he said more to convince himself than the others.  
Percy’s been feeling so ill that he had barely thought about Annabeth, not until Thalia mentioned her. Well, if the drugs didn’t help, the hangover caused by them sure would do.  
  
“Okay, Hades is already inside,” said Poseidon. And of course Hades was, he was the most punctual of the family. They all entered the place, Percy chatting with Jason about his plans for College. The blond wanted to study aerodynamics. Which was good, Percy was in his sophomore year of College (a miracle called swimming team), and he yet had no idea what he wanted to study. Another disappointment to the list.  
  
As Poseidon had said, Hades was already there, he was sitting between his wife-niece and their daughter. Hades stood to greet them.  
  
Percy had always been a little scared of his uncle Hades. He was a lawyer, but when he was not working, he looked like a rocker/biker. He was really intimidating. (However, Percy couldn’t deny that he loved listening when the man spoke.) His skin was of an olive color, and he had a perfectly tamed black hair.  
Hades liked his beard well groomed, he was a man that liked to look good. No, he liked to be clean. His wife-niece’s name was Persephone; she was beautiful. Her skin was dark, and her eyes were of a nice green color, like his father’s and his. She liked to dress like a Hollywood celebrity all the time. (Rumor had it that Persephone was Hades’ second wife. Percy did not know for sure,  but he remembered his uncle’s office. He had on the left side of his desk an old family portrait. Hades was there, a beautiful woman and two children. Although, no one spoke about that, in a family as clannish as his … that had been considered a sin.)  
  
And then, there was Hazel, their daughter, and one of the sweetest persons Percy knew. She looked more like Persephone than Hades. Except that she didn’t straighten her hair like her mother liked to do.  
Once the pleasantries were over, he sat next to Jason and Thalia, with Hazel in front. The three of them made everything more bearable for him. They never judged Percy for being a bastard. They treated him like a human being, and family. And he treasured them.  
  
A few more hours. Just a few more hours with that stupid family and its stupid reunion, and he could go home with his mother.

  
  
**II.**  
  
  
Percy kept visiting Nico every Friday. Sporadically he would adjust schedules, especially if he got to spend time with his mom. He’d never dare to miss precious quality time with Sally.  
There were other times when Nico canceled. As in opening the door, say he was busy and closed the door back in Percy’s nose. In a good day, Nico would not even open the door at all.  
  
Up till now, Percy had had a couple of trips while watched by the Italian. How a boy his age was able to live on his own was a mystery that got resolved a few weeks after the first time he tried Ketamine.  
Percy had been late, he had to complete a research for a paper that was due in a week. He ran all the way to Nico’s. The Italian answered the door with disheveled hair and a tee covered in paint. Percy tilted his head, trying to see what part of the apartment was the boy painting, but he barely could recognize one of those things painters used to place the canvas. (He made a mental note to google the name of those wooden things later.) A canvas was perfectly accommodated in there too.  
“I thought you weren’t showing up today,” Nico commented as he allowed him in. Percy stepped inside the apartment, it was a little disorganized. One of Nico’s black tees was perfectly folded and placed on the drug table (as he had named it), besides that a whole set of brushes rested.  
  
He liked to take his time in carefully assessing Nico’s place, he thought that if the Italian was not going to reveal anything about himself, he could figure it himself by looking at the environment in which he lived. Most of the times he couldn’t recollect much, besides the fact that Nico wasn’t a messy person. Everything was neatly accommodated, perfectly stored. And spotless.  
Percy knew now that he had a t-shirt to paint, so he wouldn't ruin the others. It was more gray than black, and was stained from hem to sleeves.  
  
“Are you gonna play some music or what?” Asked Nico, he didn’t look fazed. However, Percy didn’t want to irritate the boy. That was his cue, so he went for his phone and opened Spotify.  
Their list was already opened, he didn’t really use the app much if he was being honest. It wasn’t his account, and he didn't want to abuse it.  
Without even looking he hit shuffle.  
  
A somber music started to play, he didn’t recognize it, he read the screen. ‘ **Bones** ’ — MS MR.  
Nico was smiling.  
“Guess we’re getting you some ice-cream,” Percy rolled his eyes. He wanted to argue, but they’d made a deal. “Just let me change, be ready in no time.”  
That said, Nico walked to the drug-table.  
  
Percy turned just in time to see Nico’s back. His pale skin was adorned with ink. It was freacking cool!  
It was an elaborate tattoo made in black, yellow (A nice yellow, maybe it was combined with other colors he couldn’t quite place that made it look golden. Or maybe it was actually golden), a little of white, and red. Those colors were perfectly balanced and created a nice touch. The design was stunning as well.  
  
Percy was not a fan of skulls; they were Nico’s thing, and that’s the reason why it fitted so well. A perfectly round skull shadowed in black but not fully colored, with a laurel wreath hanging askew, shining goldenly from its head. And even though it seemed like the wreath was melting from one of the sides, the yellowish/gold-like lines were running through the skull, like sealed scars.  
The skull’s mouth was open, a pomegranate carefully keeping it that way; some red seeds were scattered in one of the sides of the mouth. The fall of the red seeds promptly ended on Nico’s tailbone.  
The word GHOST was written just above the head of the skull. And the word KING was under the mouth. Most people would have chosen a gothic kind of font for that, but Nico wanted them to look like carved scars. The kind of scars someone obtained after passing constantly a razor blade in the same place.  
Percy has never been someone to understand art, but that was brilliant, he thought.  
  
There also was this nagging feeling telling Percy he’s seen that design before. It was not a popular thing; he’d know, but he’s seen it somewhere. It also reminded him terrible of his uncle Hades, it’d be, undoubtedly, something the lawyer would like. Because if someone had eccentric tastes in his family, that person was Hades.  
  
“Are you done mumbling?” Nico asked, there was a hint of innocent amusement in his voice. Percy blushed. “Can I put on my t-shirt now, or you still need more time?” The heat left Percy’s red cheeks and moved all the way up his ears.  
  
“Y—yeah! Sure, I— sorry,” Percy ducked his head, right hand going to scratch his nape awkwardly. He’s been busted staring.  
  
“No big deal,” Nico shrugged. The tattoo disappeared under Nico’s black t-shirt. Percy bit his lower lip; he was disappointed.  
  
“Who made it?” Percy asked eagerly. “The design. I meant the design,” he immediately corrected before Nico could come up with a sassy remark. He was right because Nico’s confident grin went down, but the glint of the smile did not disappear.  
  
“I did,” he answered softly. “It was my first real painting. It also was the first one I sold.” At the mention of the painting not being with him anymore, his face turned grim, almost sad.  
Nico didn’t add anything else, and Percy didn’t push further.  
“Ethan,” Nico said nonchalantly, “That is the tattoo artist’s name, in case you’re interested.” Nico winked at him as he leisurely walked to the door.  
  
  
As promised, Nico took him to grab a scoop. Not exactly the way he wanted to spend his Friday afternoon when he could be enjoying nothing but numbness and euphoria. But he had to grant it to the Italian boy, he knew where to find amazing ice-cream—good and affordable.  
It was almost a 30-minute walk, but it was worth it. They talked a great deal, more than they were used to until that moment.  
Nico told Percy, that if he hadn’t figured it out, he was a minor painter. He often sold a few paintings, not much, but enough to scarcely survive in the fucking expensive city they lived in.  
However, that was all. Percy inevitably had to fill the conversation gap talking about the swimming team, how he didn’t know what to major in, and Alabaster.

  
  
  
**III.**

 

_**Be there in 10** _

  
  
Alabaster’s reply came faster than any other person he knew, a thing that was bad. Very bad for Percy.

  
  
**Make it 5. Hurry!**

 

  
Percy was in trouble, and he will be deep in more problems if he didn’t hurry as his teammate told him to. He grabbed his jacket before leaving his room. He went down the stairs two steps at the time.  
“Going somewhere, Perseus?” Asked his father, Percy groaned internally.  
  
“Yeah, I promised Alabaster to meet up,” he said, his feet were shifting in the same place he stood.  
“It is alright, just wanted to check,” Poseidon commented. Percy knew there was something else his father wanted to say, but he did not have the time, nor the disposition to hear it.  
  
“Right, see ya!” He stormed out of Poseidon’s place as he weighed his options. Getting there by car, was no can do. New York’s traffic was the worst thing that could have ever happened to his lovely city. He was not bringing his bike because he was afraid it may get stolen. And his skateboard was at his mom’s.  
  
He’d have to run all the way, and trust his beloved subway system.  
Percy wasn’t thrilled by the idea of going out clubbing. He was still mourning his break-up, but Alabaster asked him nicely—as nice as “I provided you Nico’s info, the best you could do is be my plus-one", could be coming from his teammate’s mouth. Especially when his stone-cold green eyes were shadowed by annoyance because of his little sister.  
  
Besides, if Alabaster knew Nico that could also mean that he’s got means to get drugs; maybe Percy could play it cool and let him offer him some. If he was honest with himself, Nico’s game was tiring. They’ve been doing that for almost a month now, and he had merely gotten a few guided trips when what he wanted was to just … lose himself.  
He was not an addict; he couldn’t consider himself one when he had only gotten scraps.  
  
He met Alabaster in Canal St. 15 minutes later. The taller man seemed pretty much frustrated. “I swear I—” Started Percy, but brunet silenced him raising one hand.  
  
“Save it, and let’s get going. I’m the sitter tonight, and you don’t know those little shits like I do,” said him as he nudged Percy to follow him. So he did.  
Percy almost cringed when he realized they were going into SoHo. He tried to keep his head cool. No one knew about his sexuality, maybe Alabaster’s friends were part of the community, and that’s the reason why they were there. (On top of that, he could have sworn he’s seen Alabaster checking out Ethan’s ass a couple of times before.)  
The 19-years-old was so focused on watching around him. Making sure no one he knew was around to really pay attention to where they were going, or which club they have just entered until they were in.  
  
That was strange, no one asked them for an ID. Alabaster’s green eyes greeted Percy’s and he sighed, almost reading his mind. He still thought Torrington was a warlock—or something like that—in disguise. “They already know us,” was the answer to the question Percy never asked but thought about.  
They made their way through the sea of people. It fascinated Percy how the place was at full at 9 pm. People were dancing and drinking around them. None paying attention or checking on them, or at least that seemed to him.  
  
As they approached one of the scarce booths in the place. Percy swore he knew that black hair that looked like it had just gotten out of bed. Next, to it, he spotted a tousled dark hair that he did not know about. Alabaster kept walking toward them, Percy followed. It was then when the hair mats stopped being that, and two faces rose from the table.  
  
“SPEED!” He heard them both yell at the same time, laughing. His teammate smacked the girl in the head. That was the moment he recognized Lou Ellen. Alabaster’s little sister.  
  
“Speed my ass!” Lou Ellen grinned wickedly at her brother, so did Nico. Their eyes met, and Nico’s grin widened.  
  
“Good night to you too dear brother of mine,” Lou Ellen talked-yelled in an over-sweetened voice. Percy watched as the siblings argue about something. He awkwardly made his way next to Nico, the Italian laughed, actually laughed.  
He had not once seen him do that, and he hadn’t seen him drugged either, so it must have been that.  
  
“Percy, fancy seeing you here tonight.” He greeted once he took a seat next to him.  
  
“Yeah! Same,” commented Percy. His hand went all the way to his nape, it was itchy or what? “So, you actually do this stuff,” and he was thinking about taking his foot into his mouth just now. Nico laughed, his eyes were almost glassy, which meant he had been there for a long time now. He didn’t really know, and he was not going to make assumptions.  
  
“I do,” he said. “Alabaster, the sweet beefcake he is, offered to be the sitter for tonight.”  
Percy was sure he made a face when Nico referred to Alabaster Torrington as ‘beefcake’. Yeah! Well, He was handsome and had nice muscles, but beefcake? Really? The voice of the before mentioned snapped him out of his thoughts.  
  
“Guys, seriously, you know you must not mix _this_ with alcohol, or you are going to snort all night,” Percy decided, at that moment, that he never wanted to be a sitter. Alabaster’s face was dropping, and he was fuming.  
Nico and Lou Ellen laughed.  
  
“Not our fault, you were late, and we were bored out of our minds.” The girl replied, making Percy slouch in his seat in order to avoid the furious glance of his friend. That explained why he so needed to get there on time.  
  
Percy excused himself to go get a beer. ‘Play it cool Perseus, play it cool.’ He repeated over and over in his head. He returned with two beers and a bottle of mineral water because one just didn’t know when it was going to be needed. More so, while having to watch over two high 16-years-old.  
When he returned to their booth, Nico and Lou Ellen weren’t there. He placed one of the beers in front of Alabaster, who just sighed and nodded his gratitude. They sat there for a while.  
A beer became two, then three.  
  
Percy didn’t really know how to talk with the tall man, they were teammates at College, faster swimmers so far. They both knew Nico di Angelo and were Doctor Who nerds. But besides that, there was not a real common ground between them. Damn! Percy thought he was never even interested in talking to him until after Annabeth broke things up with him.  
Alabaster was a nice dude; he noticed the changes in his swimming style, (his split was not the same and he made mistakes in his reaction time, etc) and cornered to ask if he was doing okay.  
  
With all the stress building up, Percy just somewhat broke in the showers next to a constipated-looking Alabaster. He didn’t console him in a way one will expect, but he was there. He listened, and he kind of encouraged him. That was enough for undoubtedly gaining Percy’s trust.  
  
He was prepared to ask Alabaster something about Ethan Nakamura, (not because he cared much about it, but for the pleasure of seeing a flustered reaction in his usually stoic face) when Nico planted himself in from of him, out of nowhere. He was … kind of grinning. It looked more attractive than a grin, that was for sure.  
“Hey! That’s your song,” Nico cheered. ‘ **Wake Me Up** ’ was blasting hard. Percy was startled Nico remembered one of his favorite songs on their shared playlist. “Have some,” Nico handed him a small bag with some powder. They weren’t even playing, neither hit play, nor requested. It just so happened the DJ played it. Percy grinned as he took hold of it, Nico left him alone in order to go find Lou Ellen in the crowd.  
The satisfaction of not being the only ‘sober’ person in the group didn’t sit long as Alabaster eagerly snatched the plastic bag from him.  
  
“Hey!” He complained. Alabaster just ignored him.  
  
“You’re not having this shit tonight.” The taller one said.  
  
“Give me a reason not to,” he growled. Maybe he should just stop drinking. But he was ignored again, as his so-called friend put the bag in the pocket of his jeans. Next, he proceeded to look for something in his jacket.  
  
“I got some MDA if you want, but not this.” Alabaster offered him a pink star-shaped pill, Percy’s eyes widened. “We’re about the same height, so it must be fine,” included him. Percy stared at the pill before taking it with two of his fingers.  
He was so glad he had purchased the mineral water. The pill sat nicely on his tongue as he opened the bottle. Alabaster’s hand stopped him.  
“Lick it,” he commanded.  
  
‘Kinky,’ thought Percy, as he did as told. It tasted so damn gross. Gods! He wanted it over already.  
  
Time to wait. Waiting was his less favorite part, but as Nico had said in the past: They’re drugs, not miracles.  
  
He was feeling a tingling in his chest. ‘The drug must be kicking in,’ he thought. His hands were numb and clammy, but he didn’t care, he just straightened the grip on his beer. He was also salivating way too much for his own liking, but it was fine.  
  
“Remember, Perce, you want to control or let go?” Torrington asked him, Percy wanted a little bit of control, he was in an unknown place after all. His vision was shifting, and he was asking himself if it may have been, maybe, a little too intense for him.  
He didn’t care, he just wanted to hug Alabaster, and he did. He hugged Lou Ellen when she came back, drink in hand; she laughed and hugged him back. Percy also wanted to hug Nico, he felt it like a need more than a whim.  
  
Alabaster nudged him every time he tried to close his eyes, but it was because he didn’t understand. Alabaster could not understand all the magnificent sights he witnessed when they were shut. He wanted to see more, and touch them and ….  
  
The problem with clubs was that there was no way to measure time. Percy felt like he had spent more time swallowing his own saliva than anything else. The trip was enjoyable, it was distracting, and he felt content. The time he had wanted to hug people had passed, he wanted a moment for himself, he needed space to breathe. (Figuratively speaking.) He wanted to pee too.  
  
He excused himself and walked around the club. It was a genuinely pleasant place. The lights were neon and they were shifting. The blue ones were the prettiest blue he’s ever seen.  
Gradually he opened himself a path to the bathroom, it wasn’t that hard to find, but he took his time. His bladder was full, but he was not in a hurry.  
  
Percy slowly opened the door once he reached it, he came to a halt, the sight in front of him was … interesting. Nico di Angelo was making out with a guy that looked so much like Jason. But it couldn’t be, Jason would not disrespect anyone so much as to have half his arm inside someone’s jeans while his tongue tried to devour their throat while in public.  
He heard Nico moan, and that struck something in him. The Italian really did have a nice voice.  
  
Something inside made Percy grunt. Maybe it was an overprotective thing. Kind of. Nico was still a minor, and that man with him seemed old enough, and buff enough to force the young Italian into something.  
“Hey, Nico!” He called, he wanted to show the man that Nico was not alone. The kiss broke, the man withdrew his hand out of Nico’s pants faster than lighting, and they both turned to face Percy.  
  
Oh.  
  
Holy.  
  
Shit.  
  
FUCK!  
  
“Jason?!” Percy asked incredulously. Jason’s blue eyes widened both in surprise and fear. Nico stared at both of them. The artist tenderly wiped with his thumb the rest of saliva in his plump lips.  
If it weren’t for the music outside, they could be capable to hear a needle hitting the floor in the silence around them.  
  
“Awkward,” Nico singsonged to break the silence. Jason was still gaping, which was an unpleasant sight once he noticed he had a bulge in his pants. His blue eyes were scrutinizing Percy. Their eyes met and it was the moment when Percy knew that Jason knew.  
  
“Jason, how do you know Nico?” Asked Percy. He spoke rapidly, he needed to avoid any other subject or question the blond may have.  
Nico made that odd, yet funny face of his. He looked keenly from Jason to Percy and then, laughed.  
“You know each other,” it was Nico the one who spoke, clapping.  
  
“He’s my, um, we’re cousins,” Jason said awkwardly. Face flushed red.  
Nico laughed.

  
“I could’ve said that,” Percy inquired. Nico’s eyes widened in surprise. “But I asked first, how do you know Nico?” He saw how Nico stood in his tip-toes (adorable) and murmured something in Jason’s ear. He then bit his lobe, licked the inside of his ear, and giggled while Jason shivered.  
  
“Piper,” Nico said. The Italian distanced himself from Jason and patted Percy’s shoulder before leaving the restroom. Wait! If they met because of Piper and Piper was Jason’s ex…. Did that make Nico a home wrecker?!  
Last he registered, Jason, restrained him against one stall. Percy was laughing. He hugged his cousin. He was so happy to see him, even though he also wanted to scold him for being in a Club at Gods know what late-night hour, when he was almost 18!  
  
“Percy, look at me,” Jason begged. “What did you _do_?”  
  
“Whatcha mean?” Asked in return Percy. “I done nothing.”  
  
“No, your eyes …” he swallowed, Percy observed him do so. “Your pupils are dilated, your eyes are shaking and you…. You have this, this weird expression in you.”  
  
Percy affectionately patted his cousin’s back, “I’m fine.” He laughed gently. “But you young man, you’re in trouble.” He was rather serious, or as serious as he could force himself to be.  
Percy didn’t know if Jason was in trouble for the age issue, or because he was making out with Nico di Angelo.  
  
Jason sighed once again. Percy hugged him tightly.  
He stroked his back, the same way a big brother comforts his little ones. It was a little awkward at first, Jason was still spotting a hard-on after all. He only stopped doing so when the need to pee was stronger, he apologized and hurried himself to the urinal.  
Both cousins left the bathroom once Percy was done.  
  
When they arrived back at the booth. Nico was extremely close to Alabaster, who greeted them with half a scorn on his handsome face. _Beefcake_ , Percy laughed as he recalled that one. Actually, it fitted him.  
The taller male told them it was time to leave. Lou Ellen groaned and complained about it. Nico shrugged, so did Percy.  
  
The air of New York was cold, it hit Percy straight on the face. He bitterly regretted not bringing another jacket.  
“I suppose Jason is taking care of you,” Alabaster said the moment they turned to the corner, right out of SoHo.  
  
“I thought I was going to spend the night at yours,” Percy said bluntly, not really wanting to go back to that place after such a good night.  
  
“Nah,” Nico almost purred. “I’m spending time with the stud here. You go back with your _cousin_.” Percy and Jason cringed at that.  
  
“Are you sure, Nico?” The blond asked. He was concerned. Percy watched warily their interaction, completely lost.  
  
“Sì, it wouldn’t be the first time,” Nico winked. “Alabaster came before you, remember?”  
  
“For the last time, di Angelo. We’re not screwing anytime soon!”  
Percy might have been high in chems, but he could still tell when his teammate was about to lose it, and that was it. He seized Jason by the arm, and with a warning glance told him everything Jason needed to know.  
“See you soon,” he waved, dragging Jason behind him as they walked far away from the messy trio.  
  
_  
  
  
The following morning was an awkward affair. He spent the night at Jason’s, no one questioned his presence there. Hera gave them a sour face, and Zeus didn’t even notice. Thalia barely paid attention to them, she was used to that.  
Breakfast at Jason’s was not always the best experience. At least in Poseidon’s house, there was a little bit of talking, and a proper seat arrangement. In the house of Zeus, the nearest person at the table was Thalia, and she was two seats away from him! It was weird for Percy to see how his cousin, despite being the oldest, was treated as the seventh in a family of four. While Jason was the one occupying the firstborn place.  
  
He had always wondered about that. He never dared to ask Thalia how she felt about the situation, though. Most likely, she would shrug it off or completely ignore him.  
  
  
He had managed to evade Jason’s interrogatory the whole morning. He was sipping some coffee as he thought what to do next. Shower first? Check. I’m hungry? Check. Run and hide in Thalia’s room? That was not an option, the siblings were close, and he was 100% Jason would tell her. Percy could not blackmail Jason to tell Thalia about his affair with Nico di Angelo without having to explain himself—lying was not an option. Thalia was too smart to see through even the most elaborate lie.  
  
  
“Thalia,” Hera started. For a fraction of second Percy could have sworn his cousin flinched. “You have an appointment to have lunch with Radamanthys.” Hera’s voice left no room for discussion.  
Percy looked at Jason, who just mouthed an ‘I’ll tell you later.’  
  
What Percy hated the most about was that he had to eat really slowly. There was no escaping from that table until Zeus finished his meal. In moments like that, he really missed Poseidon.  
It took 20 torturous minutes for the head of the family to finish, and leave the table. Percy sighed relieved, even if he had now to confront Jason. None of them uttered a word until the door of the blond’s room was shut behind them.  
  
  
“What the hell was that?” Percy asked. Jason looked grim, the news couldn’t be good to put that kind of expression in his amicable cousin.  
The blond strode the distance from the door to his bed when he sat he patted a space next to him. The son of Poseidon followed him.  
  
  
“Thalia is getting engaged.” Percy paled. Thalia Grace was getting engaged with … “Radamanthys. I don’t know if you remember him. He’s our uncle, from the second branch.”  
  
  
“But he’s like 30!” Percy shouted and immediately covered his mouth. Both cousins looked scared of being heard by someone. Silence reigned after that.  
  
“This family is cursed,” mumbled Jason. Percy nodded in agreement.  
  
  
“So,” started Percy, he better get things done. “Nico, eh?” He tried his best to sound casual.  
  
  
“We’re … we’re friends.” Jason said, he was looking everywhere but Percy. “We are, I just— I don’t want him to go seeking people who can hurt him. He is only 16!” Percy cocked a brow. “I mean, I am clean, he is, in a way, nonetheless we always use protection. I just fear that if I’m not there someone will take advantage of him and—”  
Percy stroked his shoulder.  
  
“It’s ok, you don’t have to explain yourself to me, Jay-jay.” He was sincere, he didn’t want to know about his cousin’s sex life. “What did you mean _in a way_?” Percy frowned.  
  
“Ah! no!” Jason swallowed. “You must _know_ what I mean,” he said. Both Percy and Jason stared into each others’ eyes for a while. When Jason realized Percy did not know at all he sighed. “It’s a word he uses when he’s ‘sober’. You know, no drugs in his system.”  
Percy didn’t know about that.  
  
“What about you, Perce?” Jason’s blue eyes were now on him. Percy snorted, before telling Jason about everything.  
  
_  
  
  
On Monday after practice Percy all but cornered Alabaster. He knew the risks of asking what he was about to ask. Not because it was a bad thing, but they were in the locker room drying themselves.  
Curiosity was killing him. He wanted a direct answer and the most effective way to get it was cornering the taller male. “Why didn’t you allow me to have what Nico offered?”  
  
  
He tried to sound casual. Alabaster groaned, the towel around his neck fell. Alabaster directed him a killing glare. It was not the place nor time, but it was now or never. Especially because after practice, chances of meeting him again to ask were going to be null.  
“Because. ‘Speed’ as they call it, it’s not for you,” Alabaster said as he put on a shirt. Percy knew Alabaster knew him well enough already to figure out that he did not get what he said. His teammate sighed, his voice dropped, becoming almost a whisper. “Your ADHD, Percy. Amphetamines and Ritalin are substantially the same shit for people like you.”  
  
  
Oh! It was good to know that. He made a mental note to tell Nico about the ADHD thing. It was something he didn’t think about before, for he deemed it irrelevant.  
Both males finished their business and left the locker rooms.  
  
_  
  
  
Triton was furious as he stormed out the house. Percy was ditching the family dinner, and no one was going to restrict him. He knew his half-brother was not going to follow him, and he was going to be a bitch about it for a couple of weeks. The green-sea eyed didn’t care about the disappointed face his father will wear for a while. Percy didn't want to be with that family, and it was good damn time they understood that.  
So he grabbed his skateboard and went to the second place he felt secure. A small apartment in Bushwick.  
  
When he got in front of Nico’s door, he was surprised when a boy with brown hair opened it. They stared at each other for a couple of seconds before he spoke.  
“Neeks! There’s a hot mess at your door.” Percy’s face flushed at that. “Should I let him in, or we call the cops?”  
Neeks? Really?  
  
“If you call the cops _we_ get in trouble, asshat!” That was Lou Ellen’s voice. Percy heaved a sigh, at least he didn’t get the place wrong. The brown-haired guy was shoved, and an annoyed Nico showed up in front of him.  
  
“You call me Neeks, and I’ll slaughter you,” he threatened Percy. He only gulped and half smiled. The artist let Percy in and closed the door behind him. “As for you, you poor excuse of pickpocket, call me Neeks one more time—”  
Percy stopped paying attention to the threat, for Lou Ellen approached him and gripped him tight in a bear hug. (That and the fact that what Nico said next was unintelligible for Percy’s ears.)  
  
“Welcome to the shithole, Perce,” she said. He wanted to comment he’s been there a couple of times before, but she already knew that. She was just stoned or something. Her pupils were so wide.  
Percy panicked when he felt Lou Ellen’s face too close to his, her hot breath hitting hard against his earlobe. “This evening,” she started. A giggling fit prolonged the pause and Percy was dreading it. She was extremely close. “This very day you get to see _Neeks_ wasted as fuck.”  
  
Now, that sounded like an alluring promise. He thought to himself, and he was looking forward to it, but he didn’t want to be a sitter. Percy didn't realize he was smiling until Lou Ellen finally abandoned his personal space, and the invader was another one.  
Tousled brown hair, big hazel eyes, and tan skin appeared in his range of vision. And when Percy said big eyes, he meant it! That kid possessed insanely big eyes, and the dilatation of his pupils didn’t help him at all.  
  
“Nice meeting you,” said the ‘poor excuse of pickpocket’. “The name’s Cecil Markowitz.” An eager hand was thrown at him. Percy accepted the handshake. Too eager for his liking. What in the name of God did these kids have?  
  
“Percy Jackson.” Was the only introduction he gave. It seemed to satisfy the boy, though. For he left instantly after he got a name. (And his wallet.)  
A sound caught his attention. Someone had barked out a laugh, and it sounded right … just, right. He turned around to witness Nico smiling and giggling at something the girl was murmuring into his ear. The smile looked genuine enough. Percy liked it.  
For some reason, when Nico realized his sea-green eyes were on him, he smiled wider. Percy thought that the gesture would disappear, for the Italian always seemed so controlled around him.  
  
(Except while high on chems.) He had to remind himself that wasn’t the first time he’s seen him drugged and beyond. But the club incident was still hard to process in his mind. And it shouldn’t be, really. So what if his younger cousin and Nico di Angelo—his drug-sitter— were banging? As long as everything was consensual, and Jason kept himself away from all the crap Nico, and him did.  
  
“Hit it, Percy!” Shouted Nico. Initially, he didn’t understand what the 16-years-old meant until he recalled the list. He wanted to ask if it was okay, but he didn’t. He was going to seize his chances. Besides, better to be with them than with Poseidon’s family.  
Percy did as told.  
  
‘ **Half of Fame**.’  
Percy smirked, he had won.  
Faster than lightning, Nico was in front of him.  
“Are you sure?” He all but whispered. Even though it seemed Nico couldn’t hear him well.  
  
Nico showed him a pink pill. It was cute, it reminded him of the one Alabaster gave him. It had a white star painted on its center. Nico broke the design of the pill when he cut it in half. “Only 75 mg for you, Sir.” Said the Italian as he gave Percy a half of it. However, the pill was not attractive to him anymore.  
Percy Jackson noticed then just how dark, and lost Nico’s sparkling eyes were. More than an underage doing drugs, he looked like a painting himself. Something took out of the renaissance perception of what a fallen angel looked like.  
Pale skin, freckles shining serenely in contrast with the dim light of the apartment; thin complexion, raven hair falling gracefully in gentle waves …. And that devilish, yet somehow innocent smile plastered in his face.  
  
He jerked his head. Percy tossed the pill into his mouth and promptly swallowed.  
  
“ _Welcome to Ecstasy_ ,” Nico said as he smirked knowingly.  
  
  
  
There was a tingling in his tummy, and he could barely listen to what was playing. Lou Ellen was hugging Nico and Cecil; they were in a puppy pile. He felt left out, he didn’t want to feel like that. Especially because they were irradiating so much love, he could feel it, but he genuinely needed to feel it too, to share it all the love inside of him.  
Damn! He wanted to hug his dear mom so bad. All those feeling were spiraling in his head, it was overwhelming him, but he didn’t want them to stop.  
  
Everyone was talking, he was talking. Even though he could barely get what they were saying, it felt as if he had some earplugs or something.  
At some point, Nico gave them gum. He was extremely grateful for that, for he could not keep his jaw in place, maybe with it, he would stop munching on his own cheeks.  
  
The last thing he remembers of the trip was Lou Ellen playing with some Play-Doh, and he wanted to join in the fun too. So he did.  
In the end, everybody was immersed in their own little world. Nico was painting something with his fingers, Cecil was working on what seemed to be a molecular model. (Percy could perfectly remember when he had to do them for his Chemistry classes.) While he and Lou Ellen were working of a Santa’s Village out of Play-Doh, he felt like a toddler again—… happier and with more focus than his toddler self-had ever had—, and that was fantastic!  
  
It was fantastic for three days in a row, actually.  
  
He didn’t feel so happy four days later, though. He was tired physically. He felt so depressed to the point of thinking in finishing everything. Nico kept texting him ‘Okay’s and ‘hang in there’s every hour, it was all the messages said. Percy didn't eat much on the fourth and fifth day after, he wholly wanted to stop feeling.  
  
He met that opportunity in the shape of his Gillette. Percy laughed hard, he should have done that a long time ago. The thought of Sally and (weirdly enough) Nico forced him to stop. He was not going to die that day.  
  
He desired to hug his mom, he wanted answers from the Italian—and to see him laugh—, and … he also wanted his wallet back.

  
  
**IV.**  
  
  
Percy arrived at Nico’s place on a Friday. He had just skipped classes that day and earnestly hoped to find the Italian.  
He knocked at his door for about 2 hours, and he never received a response from the teenager. To say that Percy was disappointed was an understatement. He was about to leave when he recognized the drunken man he encountered the first time he came to this place. He was languidly drinking outside a door on the second floor.  
  
His instincts told him to run, but he paused. “Have you seen Nico?” Asked him. The man looked at him and shrugged.

  
“I don’t follow that faggot’s every step, brat,” Percy only nodded and turned back to leave. “If you’re waiting for your fix, you can wait here.” He offered. Percy was about to turn him down, but he had nothing to do. Going back to his place could be dangerous, he was supposed to be at School after all.  
The man offered him a beer, and he accepted it. The two of them spent a six pack and a bottle of rum. They were halfway through the second one.  
  
They were sitting on the stairs, that gave Percy a chance to see Nico if he ever showed up. Which he did.  
Percy’s cheeks were tickling, and sleep was gaining over him. He remembered why he didn’t like alcohol that much. It made him want to go to bed. The man —Christian was his name— and Percy fell into an easy conversation. Despite his homophobic attitude, he seemed harmless. His blond-dyed hair needed washing, and he had a weird tattoo on his neck, at any other moment, Percy would have believed he was nothing but a criminal. His half-brother certainly would call him white-trash.  
Chris was telling Percy about a girl he banged during his last trip. He implied something about loving heroine way too much, to what Percy commented he was more of a snorter. He laughed and patted his back. “Just because you haven’t tried it.” Despite the fuzziness, he laughed and said that maybe one day he’d consider it.  
It was that moment when he identified Nico. Percy’s tickling cheeks widened at the unusual sight.  
He had to make a double check, though. The boy looking warily at both young men sitting on the stairs was carrying a messenger back and was wearing black khaki-style dress slacks, and a white solid Polo. His hair was in a messy ponytail, and his characteristic ring was nowhere to be seen. But the black converse—and the bags under his eyes, if he was being honest— gave him away.  
  
“What are you doing here, Percy?” Nico asked. Yes, it was him. He warily looked at Chris, then back at Percy until his eyes landed on the almost empty bottle and the empty ones.  
  
“The real question here is,” Percy spoke. He noticed his voice dragged the words; it was a miracle he was actually speaking. “Where were you?”  
  
Nico merely rolled his eyes. “Excuse me,” he said trying to pass past them. Chris actually moved, not without whistling at him. The action made Percy want to smile and punch him in the face. His brain couldn’t just pick one.  
His sea-green eyes followed Nico’s figure going up the stairs; he ignored Percy, and he was not having it.  
He swallowed the rest of his rum in one go, stood and went after him. He was shaking and trying to have his control back, but he made it right before Nico closed the door of his small apartment.  
  
“What do you want?” growled the teenager. Percy growled back at him.  
  
“Don’t. ignore. me. di Angelo.”  
  
“I do what I want, Jackson.” The battle for the door was won by Percy. He had a few inches and swimmer muscles to top the artist’s efforts.  
  
They both ended on the floor. Nico kicked him off of him. “You are drunk. Go home!” He commanded sternly while imposing enough distance between them.  
  
“Where were you?” Asked again, Percy. The Italian threw his messenger bag on the couch.  
  
“School,” he said, taking a few steps back when he saw Percy stood from the floor. If he wanted to approach him, Nico was just backing away from him. That made Percy laugh, he had the upper hand, he realized. He was making Nico nervous and a little bit scared, and he was genuinely _enjoying_ it.  
  
“Really?” Nico snorted indignantly. He was getting furious, but Percy could still see the hesitance flickering in his eyes.  
  
“The fact that I’m an addict does not mean I’m not functional.” Nico spat. His back was against the window that leads to the emergency staircase, his hands were in his back, likely trying to open the window to run if necessary.  
Percy laughed. He actually laughed at that, a fucking 16-years-old was calling him useless. He was a cute one but the damage was still the same. He approached fast and grabbed Nico by the collar of his Polo, he fought defensively against Percy, but again … Percy’d won swimming competitions.  
  
He slammed Nico’s body against the floor, the Italian groaned in evident pain, but he didn’t care. He sat astride on Nico. They fought for dominance, fists landed on both bodies, Nico’s plump lip was bleeding and Percy could undoubtedly feel blood coming out of his nose. It felt superb, he didn’t know why, but it felt so good. Being in control, being feared, having to engage in a fight he knew he would ultimately win.  
Damn! He was inevitably aroused.  
  
One of Nico’s hand broke free and found Percy’s nape, he grabbed his hair and jerked him forward. Their lips crashed, teeth hurting and echoing. Percy’s tongue quickly found its way into Nico’s mouth, he moaned. The kiss was aggressive, heated and way too wet. He loved it!  
He could taste the blood coming out of the Italian’s broken lip, he could taste his own blood as well.  
  
Both of Nico’s arms were around Percy, luring him closer to his body. Percy was half hard when the fight began, but now he was rock hard and rubbing his aching erection against Nico’s pelvis. He moaned again, he let out another one when their mouths broke apart, and Nico’s legs tangled around his waist. Percy wanted more, he wanted to keep kissing Nico, he wanted to slam Nico’s face against the floor and fuck him hard. He wanted so many things with the Italian….  
  
His back met the floor; Nico was on top of him now. He kissed Percy again, both hands pressing his cheeks hard, hurting him. He bit Percy’s lip, and he sucked his tongue, and then he smacked his face too hard Percy had no time to respond.  
His stomach hurt. Nico had kicked him.  
“I don’t fuck abusive drunkards!” He cleaned his mouth with the back of his hand, and ran to the door, slamming it in his leave.  
  
When Percy could finally get out of the floor, he raged. For the first time since they have met each other, he made his way to Nico’s room hitting walls and cursing. It was dark, but he didn’t care. He kicked the teenager’s bed a few times before letting himself fall into it.  
He thought about that kiss. He thought about how they ‘touched.’ He was thinking Nico was going to pay for that, he thought about how he was going to fuck him, and he came hard.  
  
He woke up because of a scream, things being thrown away and glass breaking. He dismissed it thinking it must be the neighbors and closed his eyes. Percy woke up again. He was startled, he felt like drowning, and he longed for air. He sat on the bed. It wasn’t his, it was way too soft for being his.  
His head was throbbing hard, and he had to close his eyes again. Everything was spinning, and hurting, and…. He remembered! He felt his blood leave his body. He wanted to cry.  
  
“Get. Out.” Nico’s voice was beyond murderous. Percy could not bring himself to look him straight in the eye, but he saw the empty bucket in his blistered hand.  
  
“Ni—Nico, I’m sorry, I—”  
  
“Get the fuck out of my fucking home before I kill you.” Percy sat on the edge of the bed. He removed a wet strand of ebony hair out of his eyesight.  
  
“Nico, sorry…” he tried reaching the free hand of the Italian, but it was futile. Nico moved faster, he took a few steps back.  
  
“OUT!”  
  
Percy left the room while he rearranged his pants. What the fuck was he thinking?! Scratch that, stupid question, he wasn’t thinking at all.  
Nico’s place was a mess; everything was on the floor, and a few things were broken, Percy wanted to cry, how could he do something like that to him?  
  
Percy roamed the streets of New York. It was late, or maybe too early. He didn’t want to know; he didn’t snatch his phone to see if he missed any urgent call or message. It was extremely cold, his head was killing him, his conscience was maiming him.  
He cried vehemently.  
  
He cried even harder when he viciously beat himself for doing so. He had no reasons to cry. The one who should do that was Nico. He tried to rape him for fuck's sake!  
And not even quite satisfied with that, he had masturbated on Nico’s bed. Just what the fuck was wrong with him?  
(So many things.)  
  
_  
  
  
He spent three days locked up in his room. He had never been more overjoyed to be at his father’s. No one cared for him so no one would bother him. Also, no one would notice the slow disappearance of Xanax in the household.  
He’d been having problems to sleep due to the guilt he felt, so he relied on it. The fact that Xanax lessened his emotions was a bonus, he knew he should feel miserable and ashamed, but thanks to that he felt just void.  
  
He tried calling Nico multiple times, but he never picked up the phone, nor answered his texts. That was it. It was over for Percy.  
Drugs? He could get them anywhere, pay for them. He didn’t need a ‘trip-sitter; he _needed_ Nico. He’s got too used to the teenager. He enjoyed seeing him; they could have stopped playing a few months ago, and he’d be content.  
  
Percy realized how much he liked Nico, he liked spending time with him, both sober and tripping. More so while sober.  
He could watch him paint for hours and hours, just listening to music. Eating ice-cream and talking, just the two of them. Neither of them was good to open up to people, and yet, they found a place to be, they just fitted together.  
Until he screwed it up.  
  
In the fourth day, he decided to man up and go talk to him. No more crying and sobbing, and no more feeling sorry for himself. He had to apologize properly. He put on some pants and his worn-out High School hoodie.  
He could take a shower after all that nightmare was over. If Nico didn’t want to see him ever again, then he should tell Percy so.  
  
He walked through the door, already preparing an apology speech. He rehearsed it on the train ride and rehearsed it over again in front of Nico’s place. He knocked.  
  
Silence.  
  
He knocked once again. Nothing. He fell defeated, back against the wall, hands on his face. Tears flooding his eyes.  
  
“What are you _doing_ here, Percy?” It was like a deja vu. He snapped his head too fast to see Nico standing in front of him. Eyes examining him warily, his hands were fists around his messenger bag.  
He was dressed like the day it happened. Right, Nico attended school. He was a High Schooler.  
  
“Nico, I …” his brain decided to fail at that moment. His apology speech long forgotten. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I—”  
  
“Let me in,” Nico deadpanned. Right, Percy was against his door; he stood as fast as his numbed legs allowed him, and placed himself against the other wall. He watched Nico open the door, but the Italian never went in. He was staring at Percy if only he could decipher those eyes. “Are you gonna make me wait? I don’t have all day.”  
Instantaneously, Percy followed. He left a considerable distance between them in order to not scare Nico more than he must already feel.  
  
The first thing Nico did after closing the door behind him was to grab his skull ring from the desk and put it back on. He next placed his bag on the desk and leaned against it. His muscles were tense, his body language told Percy he was in fight-or-fly position.  
The raven-haired sighed. “Play some music,” Percy blinked, he was not expecting that. “My song, you leave. Your song, we talk.”  
  
He was trembling, that didn’t stop him from taking out his phone. He was frightened, he was hanging in thin by mere luck, and luck was never his strength. Swallowing hard, he opened Spotify and accessed to their playlist. Percy hit shuffle, he closed his eyes, preparing himself to leave the place with jagged pieces of himself.  
The melody was soothing, nothing like the stuff Nico liked to listen to. Percy’s green eyes opened wide. ‘ **Flashlight** ’ was playing.  
He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.  
  
Movement awoke him from his trance. Nico had moved from his spot to his ‘drug-table’. He had two joints in his hand. Percy arched a brow.  
“Weren’t we supposed to talk?” He asked slowly. He guessed beggars could not be choosers, right?  
  
“We’re going to talk, yes.” Nico brought one of the joints to his mouth. “But I need you tamed.” (Beggars can’t be choosers.)  
  
“And you’re planning to tame with—”  
  
“Marijuana,” after that, silence followed. Nico shrugged, so did Percy. The tension and awkwardness around them could be cut with a butter knife.  
The Italian handed him the joint. Percy examined it. He was not so sure about having that conversation. He actually wanted to be able to use his 5 senses; but if Nico felt more secure that way, who was him to deny the teenager that security?  
  
“I don’t know how to smoke,” he commented matter of fact when Nico offered him the lighter.  
   
“It’s not so different from smoking a cigarette,” he signed for Percy to grab the lighter, so he did. “I will guide you through it.”  
  
Percy put the joint in his mouth and waited.  
“Lit it; the first drag is always the rougher one. You should take it slowly but make it long,” Percy followed, he guided the flame to the joint and took a long drag of it. It tasted awful. “That way,” Nico’s voice was low. He was still pissed at him, but the way he talked ….  
“Take the joint out, but don’t let go of air. Try to keep it in, now take a breath through your nose. Make it deep.” Percy felt like he was asphyxiating. “Don’t let go yet, try to keep it, you’re gonna feel it and when you do, you exhale all out.  
“Don’t swallow,” he advised him.  
  
Percy wanted to let go already, Nico didn’t describe to him what he must feel until he perceived it. It was like a tingling in his esophagus. As soon as he felt it, he let go of all of it. He supposed that was it, and he needed air. He just couldn’t get it because he was surrounded by a curtain of stinky fume.  
The lighter was taken from his hand, and he watched Nico doing the same. The moment the Italian breathed out the weird-smelling smoke he looked at Percy. “Repeat until it is finished. It will kick by the time you’re halfway through it.”  
  
By the time the marijuana kicked in, Percy was seated on the couch while Nico was on the windowsill, he laughed thinking how much Nico must love windows. ‘ **The Phoenix** ’ was playing, Nico was moving his left foot at the rhythm of the song. Percy was enjoying it way too much; he has never been much of an F.O.B. fan, but at that moment, he heard the lyrics in a different light. (That didn’t make sense, not even for him. It seemed like a nice thought, though.)  
  
He felt relaxed, his limbs felt numb, but in a good way. He was slowly sprawling himself on the couch, he had all that space for himself, he better make good use of it. He focused on things. He usually never focused this much. He identified the movement of his hands and fingers as he draws it closer to his mouth in order to take another drag of the joint. Something that common, like the way his fingers moved, he had never appreciated it before that day. It was genuinely fascinating.  
  
A wave of laughter overcame him, his laugh made Nico laugh too. Oh! So that’s how it actually feels, he wondered. In movies, stoners are always laughing, but they never tell anything about the concentration. He didn’t know why the laughter, he just saw what remained of his joint and thought it was funny how the white paper seemed greenish, and with red freckles. The rest was ash. Ash was interesting.  
  
The music paused.  
“So?” Nico’s voice took him by surprise. “You wanted to talk.” Right! The reason he came all the way to Bushwick was to talk with Nico.  
  
“I want to apologize, like properly.” Nico made that face again, just that due to his ponytail he could see how he cocked a brow. It was endearing and peculiar. “I was stupid, I shouldn’t have drunk, and I regret it.  
“If I’m being honest, I was a little mad. Things at my father’s are never good, and I came looking for you and you weren’t here. You _should have_ told me you went to school,” Percy breathed heavily. “I didn’t know when I saw you, and you told me, I realized there are so many things I don’t know about you and that I want to.  
  
“Then, you started to retreat, and I saw the fear and hesitance in your eyes and I …. I felt empowered, you know? The alcohol made me had this feeling of empowerment, and I liked it. You were retreating more and more, and the chase made me go mad with this weird pleasure.”  
  
“That’s usually called abuse, Percy.” Nico deadpanned. His accent was more notorious now, he didn't realize he was actually speaking with it. Percy realized that Nico could control his accent, but sometimes it slipped. “You have the mind of an abuser, or—”

  
“I do NOT!” he did not yell, but he raised his voice enough to make Nico flinch, he regretted it immediately. “I am sorry, I—I usually have more control over my emotions, I…. I’m sorry Nico.  
“I’m not really good with words, you know? Dyslexia and ADHD. Man! I prepared an apology speech just for you…”  
  
“And I repeat myself,” Nico interrupted him. “The mind of an abusive person.” There was a prolonged pause. Longer than they have ever shared since they met. Nico, 16-years-old Nico was scrutinizing him. “Tell me about yourself, Percy.”  
Another long pause. Percy sighed heavily.  
  
“I’m Perseus Jackson, Percy for short, I’m 19-years-old. What else? I am a closeted bisexual,” he laughed. “Well, not anymore since you know now. Although, two of my cousins also know.  
“I’ll be 20 this August 18. I like the color blue, and I love my mother Sally Jackson. My mother raised me by herself, my father never told her he was married until late in their relationship, so she never told him she was pregnant. She just dumped him. Years later she married this … pig! His name was Gabe, but I called him ‘smelly-Gabe.’  
  
“One night he hit me so hard that I ended up in the hospital, that’s when my mom knew he hit me. I believed that if he hit me he would leave my mom alone. But … apparently, he fed the same lie to my mom, and he abused her too. That’s when Poseidon, my biological father, came into the picture—”  
  
“Hold on a second,” Nico interrupted him once again. “Tell me more about Gabe,” his eyes were so dark, Percy was getting lost in them. That wild glint of madness shone briefly within them. “Sometimes, talking about that stuff lightens the load, you know?”  
And here Percy was thinking Nico was going to ask about his father. Because how many times do you meet a billionaire’s son? The Italian didn’t even bat an eye at the mention of Poseidon. Percy obliged.  
  
Somewhere in his narrative, Percy started crying. He was reliving everything, he started to remember details he thought forgotten forever. It was nauseating.  
  
“Maybe you should consider therapy,” Nico said once Percy went quiet, his voice was not as high as it typically was. It felt raspy, like the first time they met.  
  
“You think?” Asked Percy. He wanted to be mad, but he was not.  
  
“Sì! I do have anger and trust issues,” wow! Nico was talking about himself now, Percy noted. This was a chance of one in a million. “I know I should go too, I know there’s a problem with me. I accept it.”  
  
“And why don’t you go to therapy?” Percy asked, laughing.  
  
“I am a hypocrite, remember?”  
  
The two of them laughed hard at that. A silence fell between them. It wasn’t as uncomfortable as he thought it’d be.  
Nico sighed loudly.  
  
“Just so you know, I’m not forgiving you,” Nico said. That statement felt like a dagger through his heart. But he understood, he would not forgive himself either. “Yeah, well,” Nico continued, Percy almost could sense a stutter in there. “I firmly believe that not giving people a second thought can be dangerous.  
“And you better order some chicken wings or something. Because we’re far into the trip and the munchies are going to kick any minute now.”  
  
“Wait! You’re trying to tell me that the massive-junk-food-eating myth is true?”  
Nico nodded ceremoniously.  
  
“And I’m also saying _you’re_ paying.”  
Percy grinned, he went for his phone as fast as his numbed limbs allowed him to. He placed two different orders. One for pizza and other for chicken wings. He was not being forgiven, but he was not being rejected nor arrested.  
Nico was giving him a second chance, and he’d do anything to preserve it.  
  
The rest of the affair went smoothly. His stomach demanded food, but he was feeling relaxed still. According to Nico, the munchies appeared slowly, and then they hit too fast; you could barely count the time for them to actually kick in full force.  
  
The food took way too long to arrive, he was wailing in hunger when the knock on the door was first heard. Both young men jumped at the sound and ran to the door to get their food.  
  
“I was serious when I mentioned therapy, Percy.” Nico started, his eyes were fixated on his. He licked his fingers.“Sometimes abuse victims become the abusers. Don’t be one of them.”  
  
“Does that mean you don’t want to see me anymore?” Nico shook his head.  
  
“It means you have options, don’t become me. And more importantly, don’t become them.”

  
  
**V.**  
  
  
By the time summer rolled over, Percy wondered how he was going to raise his grades. It was not one of his concerns, however, Sally would be sad if she perceived the trackless life he was leading. That, and his stamina was failing him. It wasn’t much a difference, but he felt exhausted every time practiced was over. He wondered how Alabaster managed it.  
  
His summer vacations were spent mostly with Nico, both sober and high. It didn’t matter the state they were in because they’d always have a blast! Sometimes he’d have ‘duties’ with Poseidon’s family, others he would tag along with Alabaster, Lou Ellen and the rest of Nico’s friends.  
Nico and he kept playing; that didn’t mean they didn't go out. Percy took Nico all the way to a skatepark in Monroe and Pike; they were so wasted in MDMA that Percy couldn’t show off as he had wished to.  
Nico made him promise to take him there again while sober.  
  
They would go out to get ice-cream or junk food on days Nico won. Sometimes, They’d go to the cinema if Percy reasoned enough with him. (“Normal teenagers go to the cinema/arcade. And you said to deal with my issues as a normal teenager,” he’d say to the Italian, who only groaned.)  
  
Percy was expecting the day ‘ **Kings and Queens** ’ played. So far, no one had the luck to get it.  
  
The Italian occupied a great deal of time painting, he had informed Percy that he had a rent to pay. Percy offered to pay it for him, which made Nico angry, hence they ended up fighting so hard they did not want to talk to each other for two days.  
  
_  
  
  
Nico took a small square and put in his tongue. “What is that?” Asked Percy curious. Nico stuck out his tongue, the square still in there, while he pointed at it with his index. Percy rolled his eyes and nodded.  
  
“LSD,” whispered the Italian. They were in public after all, and it was so unfair; they were supposed to go get ice cream because Nico'd won.  
He never signed to trip-sit him.  
  
By the time they reached the entrance to the subway, Nico was gleaming. He was experiencing a pleasant trip, and Percy was happy for him, he was, but he still felt sour about the situation.  
  
“Slides!” Half shouted the Italian as he used the handrail as a slide. Percy closed his eyes, counted to five and did the same just to clear away suspicion; in case there was any, that’s it. It could’ve been a funny experience if he hadn’t practically fallen. But Nico was laughing, so was Percy.  
They ran all the way to the platform, scratch that. Percy chased after Nico all the way to the platform; the artists didn’t stop until he almost hit the wall.  
  
That was the moment he decided he had had enough. He wanted it too.  
Percy cornered Nico against the wall, right arm touching the younger’s ear, and left hand cupping his attractive face by the chin. Nico’s eyes were an unstopping black hole; for they were contracting and dilating faster than his breathing. The 19-yo admired his freckles as if it were the first time he saw them. And then he forced himself on Nico.  
It wasn’t a kiss per se. Percy nothing but demanded the square in Nico’s tongue, and he was pretty much content when he got it.  
The square was his now, and Nico hasn’t noticed yet. What Percy didn’t expect was the metallic taste in his tongue; it could be described as a coin-ish kind of taste. And he should know, he swallowed a few when he was a kid. At least the coins never caused any nausea.  
  
After a while, the subway seemed so much bigger than he recalled it to be. The windows followed the same motion as Nico’s chocolate eyes. Big and small; and big again. The moment the door opened he swore he was Pinocchio coming out of the whale. He laughed at that.  
  
Nico’s hand was on his. They ran out of there, hand in hand.  
Percy refused to go up the stairs because they were ridiculously large, and the handrails were moving. Nico kissed his chin, then his lips, and he was gone. The 16-yo was floating above the goddamn stairs while his eyes were fixated on Percy’s lips, while his lips were calling out to Percy to follow and seize them.  
It was excruciating! Percy went up, but Nico never came close to him; even though he could feel him, he seemed so far away, so out of his reach.  
  
They spent the rest of their day chasing. He didn’t know what Nico was chasing, but Percy chased after him. Even if he lost the Italian teenager, a trail of butterflies repeatedly conducted him back to him.  
People passed by them as clouds, and soon enough day turned into night. They were still tripping and rummaging the streets of New York City as if they owned the place.  
  
“I'm hungry,” Nico said at some point, they were outside of Central Park. Percy was having an amazing time listening to what the green nymphs of the trees had to say. However, that magic was broken when the artist stood up. Percy, afraid of being left alone followed him immediately. They walked for what seemed hours trying to find something affordable. Their only choice was McDonald’s. (Percy discovered that day how much Nico loved McDonald’s.)  
  
“I don’t wanna go in there,” Percy said, Nico scrutinized him with curiosity. “Drive-thru?”  
Nico smiled wickedly at that.  
They didn’t have a car, yet they managed to find a shopping cart in one of the alleys nearby. They swore to return it as soon as they were done. (For Nico didn’t want to take away something that belonged to a homeless person that needed it more than them.) They were merely borrowing it for a few minutes.  
  
Percy is a skater, so it was logical he offered the younger male to go in the cart and for him to ‘drive’ it. Nico was laughing his ass off as he tried to get in the cart.  
In the end, they achieved their goal. The guy in charge of the Drive-thru seemed so done with them, but he didn’t refuse to serve them. Nuggets and soda, and a Happy Meal for the Italian; Percy could have sworn his heart squeezed when Nico placed his order.  
  
Both males made their way back to the alley where they found their transportation. Nico now had the important duty to keep their food safe at all costs.  
The cart ended up abandoned, and they found a seat on the stairs of a random apartment complex.  
  
“Eat your greens,” Nico said as he tried to feed Percy his hamburger pickles.  
Percy hated pickles and apparently so did Nico.  
  
“No thank you,” responded to him as he shoved Nico’s hand away. “You’re still growing, you eat them.”  
  
“I rather smoke my greens, grazie ma no.” Percy’s eyes widened, his stomach churned in a pleasant way before he erupted in laughter. Nico di Angelo just made a junkie joke, and he got it!  
That was the opportunity the Italian didn’t know he was looking for, for he shoved the damn pickles in Percy’s mouth while he was laughing. Percy stopped laughing, he grimaced and then smiled.  
  
“If I have to eat them, so have you, young man,” he smirked wickedly. Nico barely blinked. He munched the green coins of Satan but didn’t swallow. The 19-years-old faced the younger one as he leaned in for a kiss. Surprisingly enough, Nico leaned in as well.  
Percy’s plan was never to kiss Nico, but to mouth-feed him half of the munched pickles. It worked, and they just kept going.  
  
When they broke apart Nico’s face was red. “That was gross!” He exclaimed, eyes going from Percy’s nuggets to his lips. “Do it again.”  
Percy took a bite of one of his chicken nuggets, munched and fed the Italian boy.  
  
_  
  
  
Percy woke up in a bathtub. Someone’s foot was rubbing against his cheek.  
As he opened his eyes, he realized he had gone completely crazy; the tiles of the bathroom were spiraling right and left.  
He tried to move; his back felt so uncomfortable. A groan forced him to finally look at his companion, only to be hit by an empty cup of McDonald’s in the head.  
  
“Morning to you too,” he said. His voice felt surreal, it was a mix of raspy and echo. Had he always spoken like that?  
Nico groaned once again. The younger male committed no attempt to abandon his place in the bathtub, which was a shame because Percy needed to pee and stretch.  
  
“’S the last time I do this shit.” stated the Italian.  
Percy didn’t comprehend what he was referring to, he only knew he had to get out of the tub, pee, stretch, and move to another room. He was freaking out with the tiles moving and the gray curtains weren’t helping as they called his name.  
A fit of laughter and a few punches later Percy managed to get away from Nico. The 16-years-old let the water of the tub run; that caused him to lose his focus. Percy kept peeing, or he thought he was still peeing, for as long as the water ran.  
  
Nico’s face looked like carved on ice underwater, except for his hair. His dark locks moved like cat’s tails.  
It was entrancing.  
Percy decided to join him. Carefully, he re-entered the tub. Water splashed out, and Nico emerged at the same time he was fully seated.  
Percy then went underwater to match Nico’s state.  
  
They talked about anything and nothing. Nico told him a story about Venezia, and they recreated a Greek myth in the bathtub.  
“Why do I have to be Andromeda?” Complained Nico. Even so, the boy was smiling.  
  
“Because _I_ am Perseus, duh.”  
  
The water was cold, Nico was shivering and in Percy’s arms.  
Clothes drenching, soaked hair, pruney fingers, and hugging in a bathtub full of cold water. That was how Alabaster and Lou Ellen found them.  
(The oldest of the Torrington face palmed himself, as he informed Percy to be ready for a 12 to 15 hours trip and a hell of nausea, plus insomnia later on. Lou Ellen took a couple of pictures with her phone.)  
  
_  
  
  
They had an argument about how to pronounce zucchini on their 4th of July party. Alabaster threatened them to cut it off, or he was going to throw the special LSA seeds he got from Hawaii a couple of weeks ago.  
They behaved like good children would. By the time the Sun was setting, they were contentedly munching on the seeds. They tasted like nuts at first, as he continued chewing the flavor became concentrated and kind of husky. It felt gross.  
  
Lou Ellen was in charge of the music. She was not relying on ‘primates’ to heat up their Independence Day party, or so she had said.  
  
Percy felt on Cloud Nine, he had hoped another kind of trip. Nico was merrily dancing and playing with a sparkler in hand; spelling random things that made Lou Ellen laugh her ass off, or sometimes drawing abstract figures.  
  
Percy comments this to Alabaster, who handed him four more seeds to chew. He shrugged it off and took them in.  
  
Lou Ellen handed him a sparkler and thrust him toward Nico. The lights were intense, and Percy wanted to disturb them so they’d disappear and just abandon him with Nico and the soft, warm light of their fireworks. It didn’t help that he felt his eyes drifting everywhere—at least the seeds did not give Percy nausea, like the first time he did LSD, or maybe it was because he’s had it before.  
The colors were beautiful. They colored Nico perfectly (Ha!), and made him glow like something ethereal breaking through the blurriness in his eyes.  
  
He stopped abruptly in the middle of ‘ **We Found Love**.’ He stopped and stared fiercely at a laughing Nico, still playing with sparklers, and drawing ‘yellow diamonds.’ (Like his “baby sister’s luminous eyes,” he heard him say. But Percy didn’t quite pay attention on that part.) The beginning of the familiar song had really glued to Nico’s mind. Percy instead focused on the voice of Rihanna, literally, whirling around the 16-years-old Italian in front of him. Each sung word making more and more sense as he stared longingly into dark chocolate eyes and golden freckles.  
  
Behind him, Percy saw exotic flowers blooming, sparkling with every radiant smile Nico directed his way. Percy was genuinely terrified that the moment those pinks, and reds and whites closed, they’d swallow Nico and take him away from him. A huge white flower bloomed above Nico’s head.  
(Bleeding hearts. He discovered later on those flowers were Bleeding Hearts, and their meaning smashed his heart.)  
Percy instantly ran. He ran toward the Italian, gripped him by the wrist and hauled him close to his heart.  
He had just saved Nico for being swallowed by it. Nico’s genuine laugh washed away his fear, and so he fervently kissed him.  
  
Nico kissed him back.  
  
Percy’s hand found its way to the lean waist of the artist, and he instantly pulled him closer. He had to lean in a little, even though they were almost the same height, Percy was still proud to say he was a half a head taller than Nico. Their lips never parted.  
Fireworks were blasting behind them, and they were lost in each other’s mouths.  
  
At the end of their night, Percy’s eyesight was still shaky. Words in text messages were shifting sizes. And he was spacing a lot.  
Percy slept as he hadn’t done in months.  
  
_  
  
  
Nico opened the door of his apartment. His clothes had paint all over them, so did his face and hands. His hair was up in a messy low bun … more like a sloppy one; but words were not Percy’s fort, even if he tried, so he didn’t comment on that. (Was the word sloppy even used to describe someone’s hair? He’d have to check it up later.) When Percy entered Nico’s place, there was a very … the curious smell in it. “It stinks,” he merely commented, his mouth running out before he can even stop it. Nico chuckled softly, the Italian kept walking to the window. The day was cloudy, and it could start raining incessantly at any minute now, yet Nico was sat in front of it. Painting.  
He seemed relaxed, it was strikingly a nice sight on him. Nico sat down on his small wooden stool, there was no music playing today.  
  
“Seriously. Did you invite a herd of Hindus to cook?” He heard Nico chuckling again. "Because they left the species burning.”  
This time, Nico laughed hard. He still looked at peace. What on Earth?  
  
“No,” he said softly. The vowel rolling in his tongue. Almost like saying ‘oh’. “Just some Kanna.” He grabbed the paintbrush with care, almost lovingly. “There is some left on the table if you want.” Percy sighed. Nico ‘trilled’ his r again.  
  
Percy was lost in his charming accent. He loved when Nico was distracted enough to not notice he couldn’t pronounce ‘th’ and replaced it with a ‘d’. He sincerely loved how the vowels possessed a strong sound when he pronounced them as if they were important and permanent. Percy hated how Hollywood portrayed Italian accents, so exaggerated when it truly was one of the most beautiful things he’d heard in his life.  
Lost in thought, he didn’t realize he reached out the table. There were three joints neatly accommodated. Next, to them, a cinnamon-like powder was resting in a crystal box.  
“Aren’t we gonna play today?” He asked, index playing merrily with one of the joints. “You’re just gonna let me have it?” Nico laughed again.  
  
“Bug off, Percy,” the Italian said. “I have to have this done before Friday. Take what you want,” he paused. Turned to look at him. “Like birthday present? Sì?”  
Percy nodded, took the joint he was playing with and looked for the lighter. It was nowhere to be seen.  
  
“Should I just smoke it?” Nico usually gave him a small lesson of what was he going to do. So he just wanted to make sure. That had nothing to do with the fact he wanted to hear his voice more.  
“You can snort it. If you desperately want a bloody nose, that is” it’s all Nico said before turning his attention back to his canvas. Percy then spotted the lighter, on the window next to Nico. He smiled contentedly.  
And so, Percy decided to just go for it. (Both literally and figuratively speaking.)  
  
Percy coughed a few times. Nico had taught him how to smoke when they first did marijuana. But this was like having a cocktail of Turkish species shoved up his nose. He was glad he didn’t snort it.  
Thinking about it, he was becoming a fan of snorting. There was something about it that made him like it, even if he regretted his decision seconds later.  
The smell was atrocious, though. And he desperately wanted to complain about the aftertaste it left on its way. He laid back on the couch, he was going to watch Nico paint until the joint was done for good.  
He didn’t count the time, that was usually Nico’s job. But it was nice, he felt … he felt …. He felt like he didn’t give a shit anymore. He slowly sank deeper into himself, and his hands felt clammy. Percy never stopped staring at Nico’s back, it was comforting just knowing he was there. Even if the 16-years-old was submerged in his own little world.  
There was a change in the weather. He could tell, but he couldn’t identify it. Percy didn’t know if he was warm or cold. One of the windows was slightly open. So it must’ve been that.  
  
Percy didn’t even notice when there was no more joint. He let out a small laugh. It was fine.  
Just that, it wasn’t.  
Percy wanted to cry, and he and no idea why. He wanted to cry because Nico was not paying attention to him. It was just a couple of seconds, maybe minutes, and he was feeling cranky, a little mad at the Italian. It wasn’t a bad kind of mad, though.  
He couldn’t explain it; he was mad but not really. Like not full-lashing-at-you kind of mad, and more like I’m-petty-and-mad-right-now kind of thing.  
  
At some point, Nico stopped painting, he was shivering and Percy could hear sobs. He immediately sat bolt upright. He was making his way to where Nico was, and then … the canvas went off flying. Hitting the floor loudly. Percy swallowed.  
He watched how Nico’s head went down, his fingers and the brush going throughout his raven hair. He shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he yelped. “Go home, Percy.”  
  
Percy crossed the few feet between them. Shakily, his eager hand met Nico’s shoulder. The Italian went still. Was it because of Percy’s hands? Were they that clammy? Was he gross? Nico shook his head again. “Don’t let my bad trip ruin yours,” this time, he spoke slowly. As if he weren’t trusting his own tongue.  
He helped Nico onto the floor; they laid in there for a long time. He hugged Nico tightly, and they just stayed there. Nico’s back pressed against his chest.  
  
Nico had left the comfort of the floor before Percy did. He made his way to the kitchen. Percy was annoyed because he left him there.  
There was a small ache making its way to his head. Percy realized it was over then. He saw Nico munching, disgustedly, a banana. He saw it and he gagged.  
  
  
They remained in an unbearable tension for hours. Nico forcibly tried to make him eat something, but he wasn’t feeling like it. He was not hungry, period. They started to yell at each other because of that.  
They would argue heatedly and apologize in the span of minutes. Percy was mad, but he was anxious about Nico not wanting to talk to him, not wanting to ever see him ever again. He had already left the apartment three times and returned two to apologize, just to find Nico in the same state of anxiety as him. The third time, they screamed at each other, Percy shoved Nico against the couch and then he left slamming the door hard behind him.  
He ran as fast as he could with his throbbing head and a rain that had him wet in seconds. He ran so he would not feel the urge to go back to Nico, and if he did. He’d be already miles away.  
(Later on the week, Nico would tell Percy that he shouldn’t do Kanna while depressed. He’d apologize to him because he let him have it while he was tripping. Percy would insist that he wasn’t depressed anymore, at least not that depressed. He was okay. The boy would just tell him with a serene voice that sometimes negative feelings creep in, and that that’s natural because they’re too deep in themselves to prevent it.)  
  
  
When he got home, he realized his mistake. He was at his mom’s front door, not Poseidon’s. He entered anyways. Sally was happy to see him, but she had that face again. It bitterly hurt Percy to see her like that. His mom opened her arms wide for him, and he ran to them. She didn’t care that he dampened her clothes. He loved her so much.  
  
“Percy,” she whispered into the emotional hug. “What’s wrong? Tell me,” the please was not said, but he could still hear it in her voice.

  
“I am so tired, mom.” He knew he was trembling uncontrollably. Sally was not stupid, but he wanted to believe he could fool her. Like he had fooled her years ago regarding Gabe’s cruel abuse. She prepared him a warm bath. She helped him dry his hair like when he was still a toddler. He ate even though he wasn’t hungry, he had to play it cool. Besides, his mom’s cooking was the best.  
He asked her about her week. He sincerely wanted to know everything.  
  
At 11 he left. The rain had stopped, and he didn’t want to be more of a nuisance than he already was. That night, he couldn’t sleep at all. He was terribly tired, but his eyes and brain weren’t cooperating.  
  
_

 

 _ **Wanna meet up and play? ;)**_  


 

**Can’t.**

  
  
Percy groaned, he wanted to see Nico before classes started again. He was getting used to spending his mornings and evening with him. (Sometimes he would sleep over if they hadn’t had a fight during their trip.)

  
  
  
_**All day? :c**_  
  


He sent it. He had to try, but he didn’t want to seem desperate, which he was. He just didn’t know if he was desperate for Nico or the drugs. Maybe both.

  
  
  
**Jason’s picking me up at 11 and we’re gonna be busy all day.**

  
  
  
Percy felt his stomach churn. He could taste bile in his mouth. Of course, Nico was going to be with his fuck-toy. Percy just couldn’t figure out what Nico saw in Jason …. Actually! He could, Jason was dear Mr. Perfect. And he wanted to bet his allowance the thing Nico loved the most was Jason’s dark, yet subtle, humor.  
He rolled sluggishly on his bed critically assessing his pros and con. When compared to Jason, Percy was actually good for nothing, at least Sparky wasn’t an addict.  
Maybe Nico genuinely liked Jason for that, Jason being a healthy person helped him to feel secure and grounded.  
  
His phone rang again, he looked at the message, hope bursting like a raging wildfire in his chest.

  
  
  
**I’ll let you know when we’re done.**

  
  
**If you still wanna hang out.**

  
  
  
Percy tried to type as fast as his dyslexia allowed him to. Although ….  
  
That day he carefully followed them. He was curious as to what kind of possible date Jason may take Nico to.  
  
They arrived at an Art Gallery not far from 2nd Avenue Station. Piper was waiting for them out of her van, among the three; they unloaded it and entered the place.  
Percy loitered around a bar in the same street. He waited for 40 minutes before the three came out again.  
Percy started getting concerned about his own behavior. Nico always made sure to point it out to him and call it ‘abuser’s mind’, and advising him to ‘go to therapy.’ And maybe the Italian was right, he was stalking Nico di Angelo as if he were his boyfriend! (And even if he were, he shouldn’t be doing that.)  
  
When they stopped talking and jumped in Piper’s van to leave, Percy entered the place himself. He was merely curious.  
It was in the middle of something big, he guessed. Many things were carefully placed on the floor instead of the walls.  
He kept walking around; some photographs were up, a price tag attached to them. Then he saw it. He recognized that painting, he’s seen Nico working on it a few weeks back.  
  
It was mostly red. A fierce fire, Percy tried his best to concentrate on the details of the painting rather than on the raw emotions it made him feel.  
It was a landscape. A willow tree surrounded by daffodils, just a few too many, the rest of the meadow was on fire. Flares were licking and undoubtedly killing the flowers, all of the daffodils—there was this flower in the front of the painting. It was divided in half: half untouched, half being consumed by a soft and minor flare.  
The peaceful sky was carefully painted in prismatic hues of blue, pink and black; there also was a yellowish halo, but it might be because of the forceful presence of the fire contrasting with the raising Sun behind the hills.  
  
There were so many details to catch, but Percy’s breath was heavy in his chest. It screamed of a shrilly pain; it screamed unutterable disgust, blame, persecution, and shame. But it also gave him a heartfelt sentiment of peace he could not describe.  
Someone stood beside him, he resolutely ignored them until the unknown person coughed.  
“Weird seeing you in a place like this, nephew,” Hades spoke softly. His familiar voice was grave and deep. If Percy didn’t know him, and if instead of working as a lawyer he were a radio broadcaster, damn! Percy would crush so hard on his voice.  
  
“What are you doing here?” Asked Percy. His uncle hummed in appreciation.  
  
“I like to roam Art Galleries. It is my guilty pleasure,” Hades said. Next he turned to look at Percy. “And my well-kept _secret_. That I sincerely hope it _remains_ like that.”  
  
Percy gulped, he was no one to go and reveal it. Not when the bottomless eyes of his uncle were threatening him like that. He let out a nervous laugh. His sea-green eyes going back to the painting in front of him.  
His uncle was looking to intently at Nico’s art. Something in him told him they’d get along perfectly fine. He wondered what would be his uncle face like if he told him—  
  
“The Ghost King is, so far, my favorite of the new wave,” Hades whispered. Although it was loud enough for Percy to hear. “Nowadays, anyone can call themselves an artist, and they deliver weird and tasteless stuff.  
“But this one possesses a sense of art, and most importantly. They paint with feeling.”  
  
“Yeah,” Percy responded. “It is a shame he sells himself so short.” Percy side glanced cautiously at his uncle. Hades did this thing with his raised eyebrow that settled his expression into something funny, yet it expressed so many things at once.

  
“Agree, I would say that this one is worth at least $1,500.00.” His uncle pointed at the price tag, it read $600.00 (which was, most likely, half of Nico’s rent).  
  
“I was not talking about the price tag, though,” he mumbled. Hades hummed in sincere appreciation once again. His well-groomed brow raised.  
“You sound as if you knew …” he paused, carefully testing his words. “…him, in a more personal level.” Percy’s chest exploded with pride.

  
“Maybe I do,” he sighed. Percy gave a last long glance at the painting before facing his uncle. “Well, it was nice seeing you, today.”

  
Hades nodded. “Have a pleasant evening, nephew.” And for a moment, Percy thought his words were sincere.

  
“Yeah, you too.”  
  
_  
  
  
Nico’s face was blue when he gently opened the door.  
He looked cuter like that. “It suits you,” half-joked Percy. Nico just showed him the middle finger—also covered in blue. Not only his face was blue, but his—usually stained— black-grayish tee spotted brand new blue stains.  
  
Lou Ellen and a Cecil (Markowitz, Machoweekz, Maroickz. He didn’t remember.) were laying on the floor. The two of them smoking heavily. The moment the girl saw him, a wicked grin appeared in her face.  
“HE WAS A SKATER BOY, THE OTHER WAS A LONE WOLF~!” She sang/screamed at the top of her lungs, destroying the musical harmony of Avril Lavigne in her stride. She hummed the rest, maybe she forgot the lyrics, or she was too stoned to come up with something clever.  
“THEY ARE IN LOVE, HAVEN’T YOU HEARD? HOW THEY _TRIP_ EACH OTHER’S WORLD! HE’S WITH THE SKATER BOY, SNORTING SHIT THROUGH HIS NOSE!”  
(And he was mistaken.)  
  
Cecil was laughing his guts out, as the dark-haired girl continued her improvisation.  
Percy blushed once he realized that she was talking about him and Nico.  
  
“What the—?” Percy chuckled. Trying hard to hide the embarrassment. “What’s _wrong_ with her?”  
  
Nico rolled his eyes; his cheeks were tainted in pink, or maybe it was a shadow of all the paint smeared on his face. He tried to play it cool as he made his way back to the open window. His easel was facing the same, Percy was really curious; for in the time they’d known each other, he had never seen that amount of blue.  
“I bet her parents dropped her when she was still a baby,” Nico replied, chuckling.  
The only response they both got was a strenuously laugh from the two teenagers on the floor.  
  
Percy sprawled himself on the couch. He had nothing against doing drugs with Lou Ellen and Nico’s friends once in a while, he just felt that Nico’s apartment was for Nico and him alone. He also didn’t want to show the girl—or any other of his friends— his bad trips. They were personal, and he didn’t trust them enough.  
He merely remained there, admiring the profile of Nico as he painted. He looked painfully thin. Thinner than he’d been so many months ago. His hair grew drastically, raven strands escaping his ponytail and framing his face. His cheekbones looked pointy and so did his jaw.  
Somehow, even with the ever-growing bags under his eyes, Percy still found him so beautiful.  
  
“Get lost, you junkies,” Nico spoke. Percy blinked. He didn’t realize the artist had stopped working. His full attention was on his friends. Cecil laughed.  
  
“You’re a junkie too!” Lou Ellen protested. Nico threw a large brush at them.  
  
“Not denying that. Go and get your brains fucked at Ethan’s or somewhere else.”  
Ethan? Percy wondered if he knew this Ethan Nico was talking about. (For the record, he was going to bet that yes. And he’ll lose a piece of his aching heart if he discovered that Nico had also screwed him.)  
  
“Ethan?” Great, brain! Just great. Nico untied his messy ponytail. “As in Ethan Nakamura? Alabaster’s sweetheart? Or the Ethan who tattooed you?”  
  
Nico laughed. “He’s not Alabaster’s sweetheart … yet.”  
  
“He is also the one who tattoos,” Cecil added gaily. He was already grabbing his stuff. The girl was behind him, making time.  
  
“It’s excellent to know that at least _you_ try,” Lou Ellen’s comment made him blush. Nico groaned in exasperation. “CAN YOU FEEL THE LOVE TONIIII—!” Nico didn’t give her the chance to finish her song, as he threw his messenger bag at the closing door. However, they could hear their laughter outside the apartment.  
  
The Italian sighed after long minutes of silence. Nico took the canvas from the easel and delivered it to him. The stretcher was heavy, Percy thought as he carefully maneuvered to rotate it so he could see what Nico was painting…. His jaw dropped.  
  
Percy stared at the painting, gaping. It was dark and blue. Nico had mixed all the blues in the background. Somehow he made it look entrancing, and perfect, and beautiful. There was golden in there too. In the center was a trident painted in golden, the texture … Percy felt that he could feel the craving if he only touched it. It had so many little details, fierce waves, horseshoes. There were also letters in Greek. “Ἀνακλυσμός” it read. Everything was meticulously detailed and not … he didn’t know what word would apply to describe it, but it wasn’t saturated. In the junction of the haft and the base, a circlet rested.  
(The circlet of a Prince.)  
  
“What does this mean?” Percy carefully pointed at the word in Greek, not wanting to touch it, fearing he may ruin it. Nico leaned in, his chin resting in Percy’s muscled shoulder. He could practically feel a shy smile.  
  
“Anaklusmos, it means Riptide,” Nico said. His breathing was frantic, he could feel it. As well as he felt Nico’s heartbeat echoing his own. He held his breath and bit his lower lip in anticipation. They were too close….  
“Happy birthday,” Nico whispered. “I don’t have any money. I can barely survive by myself, and I did not know what to get you. Sorry, it’s not much.”  
  
“You could’ve just smiled at me, and I’d be content,” Percy said, his mouth betraying him. The heartbeats increased, he didn’t know if it was his or Nico’s heart pounding like crazy.  
Percy coughed awkwardly. “I love it, really.”  
  
One of Nico’s hand found its way to Percy’s stomach. It went down, and he shivered. It was both a relief and a deception when Nico snatched Percy’s phone out of his jeans.  
The older male just placed his finger on the Home button to unlock it, and let Nico roam through his phone as he pleased.  
  
‘ **Shot at the Night** ’ played, Nico hummed against Percy’s shoulder. Damn! Or he was too sensible, or Nico was too intense for him to handle alone.  
“You win,” the youngest said gently. He was not moving from his back. He had found comfort in there, apparently. “What do you wish for?”  
  
“For you to kiss me,” Percy blurted out. His cheeks were on fire! There was a pregnant silence, he was going to laugh it off as a joke when he felt Nico’s lips. They were caressing the visible skin of his neck with uncertainty. Percy flung his head back, giving the minor more access to his uncovered tanned skin.  
A warm and wet feeling placed itself in his chiseled jaw. Nico had gently licked it! It was too much and not enough at the same time.  
  
He wasn’t certain if he turned to face the Italian, or if Nico was the one executing the movement, but soon enough they were kissing.  
Chaste at first. Just lips pressed against lips. They started to move, slowly and pleasant, then eager mouths parted and the heat rose as their tongues danced desperately. It was another fight between them, one for control. A memorable fight for pleasure.  
Percy embraced Nico tightly. He didn’t want to let go, not at that moment, not ever.  
  
Nico moaned into the fervent kiss. Percy did the same.

  
  
**VI.**  
  
  
Summer was reaching an end, and Percy was sure he was a little bit in love with Nico di Angelo. Developing feelings for the teenager was not hard. Especially, when said teenager was beaming as he sang ‘ **Bohemian Rhapsody** ’ at the top of his lungs.  
The two of them were laying in the middle of Central Park, watching the clouds pass by. Although the clouds stopped being of interest for Percy a long time ago. He spent the time staring at Nico; his profile was so well defined. The teenager was too slim, and that pronounced his cheekbones even more. Percy still loved his facial structure, especially his jaw, Percy could stare at Nico’s jaw for hours.  
  
  
“What?” Nico giggled when he realized he was being observed. Percy shrugged, not wanting to let know the younger about his newly found feelings.  
The night of his 20th birthday they had sex, and the memory was still fresh in his mind and body. The only thing Percy didn’t like of that night was that Nico snorted a few lines before getting down to it.  
For all one knew his epiphany did not belong to that afternoon. Percy was in love with Nico that same night, his brain recognized it at that moment.  
  
“You have a nice voice,” was all he said. Nico laughed, his cheeks were red all of the sudden. Percy could not remember what they had before leaving the apartment. But the thing kicked hard, and it lasted. His vision was kind of blurry, and his hands were clammy. He felt as if his body was in complete sedation and his mind wandered far away.  
  
“I do not,” commented the adolescent male next to him. He wanted to object when Nico beat him to that. “I just cannot let the straights sing it.” He laughed, Percy raised an eyebrow. “This is _our_ song. The straights can’t have it.”  
  
Percy laughed uncontrollably at that. “The straights are not allowed to have many songs.” He added Nico nodded frenetically at that.  
  
“But this one in specific.” With that, both males started to sing what was left of the song.  
  
_  
  
  
Nico hit shuffle and ‘ **Mr. Brightside** ’ started to play. It was a win for Percy.  
“Cocaine,” so far it was his favorite if he could say he had a favorite. He knew it lasted for a short period of time, but it was fine by him because they could have enough out of a small dosage. He wasn’t still used to the weird feeling in his throat as it went down, the burning nose he could handle, after the last time he had Kanna (he had snorted it just to try), cocaine wasn’t that bad anymore.  
Nico obeyed like a Genie from a bottle. He measured their dosages and neatly placed 20 lines on his crystal cut board. “85% of purity.” He claimed, proud of himself. One day Percy had to ask how he tested it. But today wasn’t that day.

  
“Wow! Too pure,” he examined the lines as he fetched his snorter from his pocket. “You had never allowed me to have it that high.”  
  
“I’m in a good mood,” he shrugged. Percy laughed. Nico had never allowed him more than 73%. He had said it was the minimum, and he should never settle for less. He also said that the maximum amount of purity they could handle was 89%, so for Nico letting him have around 85% of pure cocaine was something.  
He smirked.  
  
The first time he had had it, he had wanted to have sex. He was feeling all his blood pressure down there, and he just wanted to get laid. Nico made him snort more and more. There were no time intervals with it, maybe that was the reason he liked it, as soon as he felt horny he’d just have more in order to make the urge to have sex decline.  
He got the first line. As always it burned and went down slowly, leaving a bitter taste in his throat.  
  
He also liked cocaine because it set Nico’s tongue loose. The Italian could talk and talk for hours, he’d laugh and joke. And just be with Percy.  
He liked Nico high on cocaine. He also liked him clean, but at least, with the drug, he was open for 45 minutes straight. Last time they got into a fist-fight under the effects of it, though. They made up and laughed afterward.  
Sally questioned sadly his broken lip. Percy just blamed his skateboard (which he hadn’t used since the end of July), and he brushed it off.  
  
They were both crunched on the floor after Percy got his third line. They were laughing unceremoniously and it was fine. Nico allowed his back to hit the wall with a small thump, and they both laughed again. Percy found his bravery and got closer to him. Their noses were too close, he could feel Nico’s breath hitting against his lips, and it was the best feeling in the world.  
If this was the only thing he was getting from him. He would take it. Nico’s left arm was raised, he was painting nothings in the air above their heads. His arm came closer to Percy’s head; he traced it without even touching him.  
Percy mimicked him. Faces close enough to kiss, but never crossing the thin and invisible line. Their hands were playing in the air. In the same way as their mouths, they never touched.  
  
That’s the way Jason found them. Percy Jackson hated Jason Grace so much! He had just ruined their moment.  
When the blond announced himself, coughing awkwardly —like everything he did around Nico. The Italian’s eyes were filled with light, and Percy’s stomach sucker-punched itself. Nico ran to the blond, his limbs were all over the muscled figure of his cousin, and his mouth found the conjuncture of Jason’s neck and shoulder. Percy growled.  
  
Jason looked at Percy, he was judging him with those blue eyes full of fake concern of his. Nico was licking Jason’s face as if it were a lollipop. That was the last he saw before the two of them disappeared into Nico’s bedroom.  
Percy left right after, not wanting to hear anything happening in that room. He slammed the door shut and stomped his way through the corridor. When he made his way to the stairs, he punched the wall countless of times. It was taking too long, and he wanted to be gone. He punched and punched until his hand landed on the small window instead of the deteriorated wall.  
  
He left the apartment building with a bleeding hand and a piece of glass encrusted in it.  
  
_  
  
  
Percy arrived at the apartment complex out of sheer habit. He knew Nico was not going to be home, yet his feet dragged him all the way to where the Italian lived. He stood in front of Nico's door for a while, waiting. He wanted to see him, even though he knew that day would not be a good day to do so.  
After an hour or so, Percy decided it was time to go back home. On his way back he came face to face with Chris.  
  
Percy was bitter about what had happened in the past. The 20-years-old knew it wasn't the man's fault. Chris had offered him some alcohol, which Percy accepted. If nothing, it had been his own fault, and he knew it was wrong to try to condemn the man for that. But alas, Percy was that kind of petty.  
He nodded on his way down, the man snorted. "Come here," he said. His voice was raspy; it gave Percy chills in a bad way. Nonetheless, he answered to the call.  
He climbed the few steps he had gone down and stepped in front of Chris.  
  
"Sup?" He asked. His hands never abandoned his pockets. And his sea-green eyes were fixated in everything except the man in question. He started to fidget a little. A part of him didn't want to be there, on the other hand...  
  
"The fairy is not home," laughed Chris. That comment made Percy see red. His eyes widened in anger. "Easy there boy," continued him. "I know you what you come looking for, and I can help today."  
  
"Hah, you? Help?" Spat Percy dryly. He wanted to leave, that fake-blond could think he possessed the right to insult Nico. HIS Nico? "You cannot even shower, what would you have that might be of my interest?"  
That sounded harsh, right? It was what he intended. A satisfied smile adorned his face when he noted how he had hit a nerve.  
  
"Something, lil'fag won't give you." Percy blinked. That kind of picked his interest. "Did you have some adult fun yet? Or is he still playing around with snorters and easy to swallow pills?"  
Percy smirked.  
  
"Oh my! You call Nico a fag, and here you are offering to sleep with me," he barely blinked as he said that. "How considerate of you, never thought you'd worry about my celiba—"  
His back hit the wall hard; it was more the surprise than the hit itself. Chris was weak, and Percy smiled at that. Nico punched harder than the man who had him pinned against the wall. But Percy didn't want enemies; as long as he maintained his distance from the other man everything was cool ... or that was what he had thought before. That was the reason why he had been avoiding him, unconsciously and knowingly.  
Percy surrendered, both arms up in the air.  
"Ok ok, sorry." He said, he locked eyes with Christian and smiled a crooked smile. "I was joking, and I'm not in a good mood."  
  
The man growled as he loosened the grip he had on him. Percy stepped away from the wall. He leaned against the door frame of what he supposed was the man's apartment. "So, what is this _adult thing_ and how much will it cost me?" The moment Percy implied that money would be on the table, Christian's eyes sparkled. The man's mood turned for the best.  
What the hell was he getting himself into?  
  
“I got some tar,” he suggested. Percy blinked, his face showed his concern and lack of understanding. "Follow me, kiddo."  
  
What the fuck had he got himself into? He asked himself every 10 seconds or so. The place, his 'apartment' was a rat's hole. No, scratch that! A rat's home was more decent than what the man called home.  
Christian was what Nico wasn't. Messy, nasty, and... Holy shit! Was that a cricket impaled in a needle? He didn't want to find out at all. Percy tried his best to concentrate on other things.  
  
"So, tar?" He asked. Maybe he could get it and leave that dingy space. However, Chris seemed like he had no intentions to give it to him.  
The man was sitting on the floor, the son of Poseidon stood near the window trying not to touch anything. His sea-green eyes widened in realization when he spotted what the older male was doing.  
A candle, a spoon, a glass full of water and powder. He didn't need to be a genius to know; he'd watched enough movies to know what Chris meant with the term 'tar'. This could be o really dangerous, or really fun.  
  
Nico had never talked about heroin or crack before. Percy was making a list in his head about all the stuff he's seen in the drug-table. Syringes were never a present artifact in the Italian's household. Percy was wondering why, maybe Nico didn't like it. Was he afraid of the drug? He tried not to laugh as he remembered the first time in Nico's apartment. He was too scared to find a needle in the couch he didn't want to sit. Months later, Percy found himself in a place full of needles, and he still didn't want to have a seat.  
Percy watched Chris work. He had nothing to do anyway.  
  
The silence in the place was getting on his nerves. The only noise he could focus on was of the utensils Chris used and discarded as soon as they weren't useful anymore. There was a knot in his stomach, with Nico there was always background noise, even if it was only music playing. "So," he tried once again. "Do I really need to shot it in my veins?" He had always known the only way to consume the drug was like that, but he could hope, right?  
  
"Nah man," Chris finally spoke. "Smoking it is only for pussies. This, this is the big bang,” said Chris as he made the spoon dance above the flame. Percy gulped, he could see why he had called it tar before.  
  
"Cool," breathed Percy. It wasn’t cool at all.  
  
Chris looked at him syringes in hand. Percy was going to take one, but the man jerked his head. In turn, Christian extended his free hand to Percy, demanding something.  
It was when he remembered he had ‘offered’ to pay. He heaved a sigh.  
“How much?”  
  
“50 bucks, dude.” Percy’s eyebrows raised and his eyes widened. He took out his wallet.  
  
“I got only 20,” he said apologetically, maybe it was a sign for him to go. He wasn’t expecting for Chris to shrug and accept the money. The man with dyed-blond hair told him something about giving him the rest later.  
Percy took out the 20 dollar-bill and silently bid goodbye to his Jackson friend. Chris took away from him at the same time he handed him the syringe.  
  
The sea-green eyed gulped hard, syringe in hand.  
“I don’t think you need a tourniquet for that,” the eyes of Chris were on Percy’s right arm. “You got clear veins.”  
  
He was not going to become an addict just because of one dosage, right? Nico once told him not all drugs created addiction in the first try. He had to be a regular to create an emotional dependence. This one had to be the same. Or so he hoped.  
Percy could only see one vein in there, he readied the needle. He hoped for a clean hit because he hated when the needle didn’t hit in the first one.  
Percy shot it.  
  
  
Percy threw up. It was a good throw up, though. After that nasty first experience, the rest was blissful. Percy lost all concern and regard for things around him. “I am Perseus Jackson,” he mumbled.  
He was Perseus Jackson; he had never felt so … him before. It was as if his shell cracked and he could start being himself for the first time in a long time. Everything was ok. No, everything was great. Even drinking water felt different, more pleasurable.  
(His speech was slurred, but it wasn’t a big deal. He had a hard time finding his way back home, though. All the sudden, the streets were reversed and looked like a labyrinth.)  
  
He spent rest of the night between feeling amazing and throwing up. He would have to apologize to his mom later for throwing up in her front door, and on the carpet of his room … and on his shoes.  
He felt sleepy, lethargic. He could barely breathe, and his legs were giving in; he could not stand properly. Sleeping could fix that one, he thought. He felt sedated—like that time they took his wisdom teeth out and the doctor was a little too rough on the anesthesia.  
  
_  
  
  
The Sun was shining on his eyes as he jumped, he failed the jump and that vexed him. A subtle pain went all the way his leg as he hit the concrete, he didn’t complain much. He’d felt worse.  
Percy thought of Nico for a few seconds. He was still mad at the Italian for being busy and not having time for him, even though he knew it wasn’t Nico’s fault. He could do with his life whatever he liked.  
Percy also wanted a little ‘cheer me up’. Nico could not give it to him, and the stash of weed the Italian had given him was almost gone. It was then it crossed his mind, in the same way someone craved for a chocolate bar.  
“I want a fix,” he said to himself. He then remembered he owed Christian $30. That could be a reasonable excuse.  
  
He stood from the floor, dusted away his clothes and grabbed his skateboard. He’d had to make a little detour to Poseidon’s before heading all the way to Bushwick.  
  
Percy grabbed some money from his allowance and borrowed two bottles of whiskey. It wasn’t like Poseidon would notice there were a few bottles missing; the man could buy the factory if he so wanted.  
The street where Nico lived seemed empty for a Saturday afternoon. He shrugged as he stopped his board once he reached the apartment complex he knew by heart.  
  
When Christian opened the door of his … home, the man was smiling knowingly. Percy gave him the money and offered one of the bottles as a token. Soon enough, Christian was preparing the shots for the two of them. In the meantime, Percy nursed a red cup filled with Whiskey and coke.  
Both men shot a fix each. Percy threw up once again, but he kept drinking regardless of nausea. Long into the trip, Percy heard Nico’s laugh, and that’s the last he remembers.  
  
  
  
He woke up in a bathtub. That was becoming a constant thing since he met Nico. Speaking of which, Nico was in front of him, his dark eyes were piercing through him. There were so many emotions in them, but Percy only could perceive hatred.  
Nico rose his arm from outside the tub, he had a bottle of Jack in hand. Nico toasted to him and drank.  
Percy had never seen Nico drinking alcohol before, and it was so unusual. He was deadly silent, not missing a single movement of Percy, following his every breath.  
When Percy could finally focus, he noticed just how dark Nico's eyes were. He also was able to see how red-rimmed they were. His hair was disheveled and everywhere. His right cheek was portraying a nasty and big bruise, and his lower lip was cut, with some blood still in there. Nico’s clothes were a mess too; one of his sleeves was falling —it was torn up for the looks of it.  
What did he do?  
  
He placed his left hand on his forehead, trying to lessen the throbbing sensation. However, he made it stronger. He felt it up, there was gauze in there. He ran his hand through his face, the sticky sensation on his left side of the face … his eyes widened as he peeled off a scab. Or he thought it was that until he looked at it. Dried blood.  
Percy gulped.  
  
“Buongiorno,” Nico said. His voice was husky, not in a sexy way. The Italian drank again, and the two of them stared at each other in silence for a long time. Until Percy blinked his gaze away, nauseous. “You, mister tar-is-so-awesome, are going to clean up my goddamn window.” Announced the Italian before joining his lips to the bottle’s mouth.  
When the amber liquid was all gone down Nico’s throat, the young artist slammed the bottle away. He didn’t even blink when few crystals flew back to where they were.  
Just like that, the 16-yo stood. Nico stumbled a little, but regained control quickly, and step out of the tub. Percy watched him walking barefoot to the door, and he flinched as it was slammed shut.  
  
  
It took Percy 15 minutes, and a stop-off to throw up in the toilet to get out of the bathroom. He walked carefully, trying not to make a sound. Nico was against the door frame. “Did you know many things are wrong with heroin?” He questioned Percy. He only flinched. "It could be contaminated with bacteria. The needle could be contaminated with hepatitis C or HIV, and,” he paused. His gaze lingered in his arms. “Track marks. You are a swimmer, of course people will notice them, and they will know that you are nothing but a fucking addict.”  
  
Percy was paralyzed, he was still trying to process what happened last night. For the looks of it, it wasn’t a good thing, but it couldn’t be that bad since Nico was talking to him, right? He wanted to feel angry. He did every time Nico called him an addict, but he had no right to be.  
Percy was desperately dying inside to recall what he had done to Nico di Angelo.  
  
“You do not want to get into it again,” Nico’s voice was more tender now, “but if you do. The door is wide open.”  
Percy’s sea-green eyes snapped open at that. Was Nico really…? He looked for his chocolate gaze and found it. Percy had never seen Nico’s eyes looking so serious. Even that glimpse of madness they possessed shone differently than before.  
“If you walk through that door to go find a syringe, do not even think about knocking ever again.”  
  
Percy was certain he paled at that. Nico passed next to him, the younger one patted his shoulder ... it had hurt. (Percy had a severe bruise there; it could almost match with the one Nico had on his face.)  
The door to the bedroom was closed. Percy was left alone.  
  
  
He smirked sourly, he better get to cleaning the damned window, then.

  
  
**VII.**  
  
  
To say Percy was somewhat excited was an understatement. He had invited Nico to see him swim and he had said yes. Not even the tiring Tapers his couch forced him to do would vanish his big-fat grin.  
He was exhausted, yeah. But he was overjoyed.  
  
Percy entered his mom’s apartment, skipping like a child, Sally saw him and smiled at him. He crossed the distance between them, captured her by the waist and started to spin her around. Sally was yelling at him to put her down, but she was smiling radiantly and laughing.  
“What got you so euphoric all of the sudden?” Asked her, once Percy placed her back down, and she got her breath back. Percy smiled a toothed smile. She smiled back.  
  
“Nico said yes!” was the only answer Percy gave her. His mom’s eyebrows raised. She seemed puzzled, and there was something about her expression that caused him an uneasy feeling. However, she smiled and caressed his cheek.

  
“Does this Nico, undoubtedly, make you happy?”

  
“Much more, mom. Much more.” Sally kissed his temple. Percy closed his eyes allowing the feeling of his mother’s lips transport him to his ‘safe place.’  
He couldn’t wait for the competition. He was going to swim an Individual Medley, it was going to be a piece of cake.  
  
_  
  
  
Percy and Alabaster warmed-up in the lockers. Alabaster was immersed in his own little world, headphones on, as Percy tried to concentrate and not go looking for Nico. The coach let them know when the time had arrived to leave, and go take their respective places.  
  
Cap and goggles on, Percy stood near the Block. He massaged his muscled shoulders casually as he carefully scrutinized the enthusiastic audience, looking longingly for a lean and tall Italian. He caught sight of him in the second row, he smiled widely, Nico was practically sitting behind Sally.  
The command was heard, and Percy stepped onto the starting platform. He adjusted one more time his goggles.  
“Take your mark,” the referee shouted the starter’s command. Percy instantly shifted to the starting position, right foot at the front of the track start of the platform waiting for the signal for the IM. He sucked in a deep breath. Sea-green eyes shifting from the Short-course to the teenager in black observing him.  
The starting signal sounded.  
  
Damn it! His reaction time had been slow. He left the blocks; he’d have to use drafting to compensate it. Percy maneuvered, as well as his dolphin kick allowed him to, behind the closest competitor in the adjacent lane. The water was in his favor.  
The butterfly wasn’t his strong stroke, but he could always rely on a negative split. Breaststroke and freestyle will be his winning cards.  
  
The second part of the IM caught on Percy when he saw the purple flag. He found himself completing a flip turn faster than he expected to gain momentum. He somersaulted before reaching the wall and pushed off with his feet. He dolphin-kicked with the impulse given. Percy felt the effort in his hips. (That was odd, he had never resented a dolphin kick before.)  
  
The gravity waves were catching onto him. He felt the resistance of the water, it was like drowning. Percy desired nothing more than to finish the race already.  
His desperation caught up to him. The momentum he had gained from the end of his backstroke, and that he had managed to keep during all the breaststroke, disappeared during the last part of the freestyle…. He was going delirious.  
  
He touched. He hadn’t come in first, but he didn’t care for a few minutes. Percy only wanted to regain his ragged breath. He didn’t even dare to look at the touchpad.  
He already knew his personal time had been atrocious.  
  
Alabaster aided him back to the lockers, so he could cool-down. Of course, the taller couldn’t stay long, he was next in line to race. Percy stayed on the bench, towel over his head, dripping water all over the place. Let his body rot with the excess lactic acid. He didn’t care.  
His bewildered brain had finally realized the appalling mess he’d made.  
Percy never came in third. Never! And judging by the disdainful glance his couch sent him when he saw him desperately trying to level his breath, he was going to be in deep shit.  
  
He couldn’t lose the swim team. He could not lose his scholarship.  
Percy sobbed piteously.  
  
The team has come and gone. He was sure coach had said stuff, but he didn’t listen.  
He was the last one in the locker rooms. His hair was still wet, he found the fall of the droplets on the floor really interesting.  
  
Long fingers stroked his shoulders. He felt his body being pulled forward, and didn't oppose. His nostrils were filled with the scent of Nico di Angelo the moment his head was carefully placed against the chest of the Italian. Percy’s arms started moving on their own; in an instant he was hugging Nico by the waist as tight as he could bring himself to.  
The younger male soothed him. His thin and calloused hands rubbing circles on his skin.  
Damn! Percy loved him so much.  
  
“Nico,” he said, voice shaking nervously. “I love you.” An appalling silence followed. Percy was terrified to look at Nico in the eye. For what? He had no idea. He was certain to some point that the Italian felt the same way. Yet, he had messed up again. Nico saw, his mom saw that … fuck! Everybody saw that.  
  
“No, you don’t,” Nico said sternly. His voice was grim. Percy dared to level his sight, Nico was not looking at him.  
  
Percy choked on a sob. Nico never broke the hug, but Percy wanted to get away from him.  
  
That felt worse than any rejection! The younger male was not acknowledging his feelings and that hurt. Big time  
  
“I _saw_ you today,” Nico said again, but Percy didn’t want to hear. “You possess an incredible talent, Percy. And watching you struggle in the end …” there was a prolonged pause. Percy only wanted Nico to remain silent and leave him alone. (Even though it felt so damn good to be in his arms.)  
  
“I felt guilty,” Nico finally said. Percy opened his eyes. He was baffled. “I try to imagine you in your peak condition, without all the crap _I_ give you, and I—I,” the grip the Italian had him in tightened. “I’m extremely sorry, Percy.”  
  
Percy’s reaction was to push the teenager hard, he stood from his misery and slapped him hard.  
  
Something shone in Nico’s eyes, Percy prepared himself for the hit. It didn’t come.  
  
He knocked Nico once again, he _needed_ a reaction from him but the Italian was not giving any. He seemed calm. (Although he had his his fists closed. Half-moons adorned Nico’s palms for several minutes after that.)  
  
“I am sorry, Percy,” Nico said again. He didn’t want him to apologize for something that was not his fault. If Nico was going to apologize, that should be for turning his feelings down.  
  
“Why?” Percy choked on another strangled sob. He wished he had sounded infuriated instead. Not weak, anything but weak.  
Nico sighed resignedly, chocolate eyes avoiding his.  
  
“I am not a rebound, Percy. I thought we cleared that part already,” he started. “What you feel for me is not love, but an illusion of what you want so desperately to feel. And it is _not fair_ that you’re forcibly trying to project that illusion on me.”  
  
Silence fell between them. It was deafening, he wanted it to be over. He slammed his hand against one of the lockers, he screamed. Nico didn’t stop him; he watched him.  
  
Nico's back was against one of the lockers, he had his hands inside his pockets, and his hair was hiding his eyes from sight. Yet, Percy was sure Nico never stopped watching him.  
  
When he tired himself of kicking and punching. Nico joined him on the floor.  
  
“Is it the PTSD?” Nico coked a brow at that, making that ridiculous face of his that Percy loved so much. “When Annabeth broke things up, she said— said she was getting tired of my PTSD. That sometimes she couldn’t even recognize me,” he laughed bitterly at that.  
  
Nico tilted his head; his eyes were digging holes into his soul. It was like going back on time to the first day they met, there was that invisible wall between them.  
  
“I tried telling her countless times that I do not have that bullshit. I’m fine … but now,” he gulped. Was saliva always that hard to swallow? “I see you here, _rejecting_ me and I can't help but think that you hate me too.  
  
“I pick fights with you. I’ve _hurt_ you. I’ve marked your skin with nasty bruises and cuts. I can’t help feeling how I feel about you, but I keep getting mad and doing all that shit to you. I tried to—” Nico placed a hand on his lips. Percy shut up abruptly.  
  
Nico nodded, and Percy nodded back at him. They didn’t need words at all.  
  
“I don’t think your problem relies solely upon PTSD,” Nico said. “It is possible you have PTSD, maybe you don’t. I’m not a psychologist. I can’t give you a diagnose.  
  
“But you must know, Percy,” Nico’s hand found his face. He could feel the soft caresses of Nico’s calloused fingers on his sensitive skin. “There must be something in you, because a trauma does not always transform a person,” Nico took a deep breath. “Yeah! No one remains the same after experiencing heavy shit that marks, and hurts and scars. But we can’t go on blaming mental disorders for who we are deep inside.  
  
“Blaming PTSD for your actions and your anger issues does not make you a better person; and it won't work as an excuse forever. Instead, you’re cruelly hurting yourself and others. Many people who suffer PTSD would vehemently disagree with you. For they are not abusive.  
  
“Tell me, Percy,” Nico’s voice became a whisper at this point. “Who were you before your trauma?” A kiss was placed on his wet cheek. He could feel Nico’s warm breath move all the way to his ear. “Nude yourself to me.” The Italian whispered before hugging him tightly.  
  
Percy hugged him back, hiding his face in the minor’s neck.  
  
_  
  
  
Somehow, the news about his lose traveled all the way to UCLA. Annabeth’s phone call shocked him, not in the way he’d thought it would, but it inexpressibly shocked him. Did she want to talk to him now? After 8 months she wanted to talk, and she had the nerve to do so when Nico, out of all people, was there! He could forgive that one, especially because Nico seemed like he didn’t care. But when she called a second time…. Of course, he was mad! She had no right to.  
  
Percy was on his way to Nico’s, he scarcely noticed Christian drinking in front of the same door on the second floor where they had drunk before. He wasn’t alone, four other men and two women were drinking and smoking with him.  
(One of the girls caught Percy’s attention. She was really beautiful. Slim complexion, raven long hair, and striking blue eyes. Percy couldn’t shake away the feeling that he knew her.)  
Percy didn’t even spare them a second glance, not a wave, nothing!  
  
Nico’s door was open, which was weird. The Italian always had his door closed and locked. However, Percy knocked four times to let know the young artist he was there. A grunt was all he heard; so he entered, closing the door behind him.  
He roamed the place; everything was a mess. He’s never seen Nico’s place looking so miserable as it did that evening. Nico was, as per usual, sitting on his windowsill … or trying to sit at least. He looked bad, his eyes were red-rimmed, his lips were chapped. His disheveled hair looked like he hadn’t washed it in days, and he was trembling uncontrollably.  
“Take what you want and leave,” those were the words Nico received him with.  
  
“Good evening to you too,” replied Percy, sarcastically. (None the wiser) Percy made his way to the ‘drug-table,’ it usually was perfectly clean and in order. Today it looked as if a tornado had passed in it. He didn’t care, he and Nico could feel miserable together, and that’s what he wanted.  
He located the cocaine at the end of the table; he took the already opened crystal box in his hand. Snorter in hand, the 20-years-old snorted what he thought were two lines in on go. He really didn’t care at this point. Besides, his body was already creating tolerance to the powder, so he deemed it rational to indulge himself a little more over his original dosage.  
  
Percy sat down next to Nico, he never left the circular box back on the table, he instead took it with him.  
“My mamma is dead, my older sister is dead,” Nico said, Percy turned all his attention to him. “I should be dead too. We shouldn’t have left Italy in the first place.”  
  
“What are you talking about?” Percy asked. It was really rare of Nico to talk about himself. He wanted to know more about him, of course, it was just … a nasty feeling was churning his stomach. Maybe he had snorted too much?…  
Nico fell from the windowsill; it had been a nasty fall that will definitely bruise. Percy chuckled a little.  
  
“Non lo so,” Nico muttered. “NON LO SO! CAZZO!” He kicked the wall, there wasn’t enough force in that kick, though. Percy’s eyes widened.

  
“Nico, calm down,” he swallowed.“ I can’t understand you!” He stood to help the Italian, lending him a hand that was rejected.

  
“Merda merda merda,” Nico said again. He kept repeating that, his dull eyes were so red and glassy …. “Ti amo tanto,” he laughed after that one.  
  
Percy wanted, more than anything, to know what was going on in Nico’s head. But he wouldn’t let him in, and if he did, he would be kicked out immediately.  
One thing was for Nico to reject Percy’s help, and the other was for him to make a low-blow. “I need Jason,” said the Italian, finally some English.  
  
“Well, sorry _I_ am not enough,” Percy had to rely on all his willpower to not yell. They didn’t need a fight, not now. He came to Nico because he can soothe him like no one else can, and what does Nico do? Ask for Jason Fucking Grace.  
  
“What are you talking about?” Nico yelped, Percy rolled his eyes annoyed. Here came the fight he vainly tried to try to avoid.  
  
“I AM here, you have me,” Percy spat. An overwhelming rush of anger running in his veins.  
  
“Do I?” Nico’s eyes were so lost. “Do I really have you, Percy?”  
Nico was retreating, it was like relieving the alcohol incident. This time Percy stayed behind.  
  
A dreadful silence fell over them. The sea-green eyes of Percy desperately tried to find Nico’s chocolate ones to no avail. What the fuck was wrong with him?!  
Then, it all occurred suddenly. (Not even Nico was expecting what came out of his mouth.)  
  
“LOOK AT ME PERCY!” He yelled out of nowhere. “I’m a 16-years-old trying to lead a ‘normal’ life on his own while being a _filthy_ faggot stuffed with narcotics! I even ruined your life!”  
“My life was pretty much ruined should I remind you!” growled Percy in response.  
  
“Oh, right! Because you have a great mom and friends. And an idiot girlfriend that dumped you is the worst shit that has ever happened to you! WHAT A SHAME! HOW HARD A LIFE YOU’VE BEEN LIVING!”  
  
Percy didn’t know who threw the first punch, probably him. But they were soon rolling on the floor fighting. He was pinning Nico against it, arm raised and ready to hit his pretty face when he noticed just how much Nico was crying. He let go, defeated.  
Nico sobbed grossly, he screamed and fought his own body to get up. When he achieved it, he stumbled all the way to the table, throwing everything. Glass boxes shattered. Pills and powders fell to the floor.  
  
The Italian grabbed a small glass flask. It was filled with water, although, knowing Nico it wasn’t water at all. Nico started laughing hysterically, his free hand going to his face. “The first time … the first time I went out with Lou Ellen,” he paused. His breath was failing him, or so it appeared to Percy. “A thirty-something thought funny to put a few drops of this in my drink, we weren’t even in a bar district,” he laughed again, but his hysterics were interrupted by a fit of coughing. “I was 14. I was disoriented, alone, depressed, and awake in a _motel’s bed_.” Percy’s eyes widened, his lips were trembling in ire.  
Nico’s grasp of the bottle seemed strong, he feared he would break it. But it didn’t happen, with white knuckles and trembling hands the Italian just let it go, crashing against the floor as Nico coughed again.  
His pale face was turning an odd shade of blue that was scaring Percy, every second his chest took longer to expand. In slow motion (before Percy’s drugged vision) Nico’s body followed the flask, the coughing fit became retching. Faster than either of them could blink, Nico was vomiting on the floor.  
  
Percy saw his world swirl. He felt sober all of the sudden. (He was not, he just was in the fly-or-fight mode. And he had to fly with Nico.) He shook the teenager’s body waiting for an answer. “Nico? Nico, please. Don’t close your eyes,” he touched the other’s body, it was shivering … an attack? “What’s happening? Nico, don’t abandon me. Nico. Nico!”  
  
Percy tried for a few minutes to keep Nico from closing his eyes, from leaving him. He wanted—needed Nico to tell him he was alright. The answer never came.  
  
He rushed out of the apartment; he felt dizziness overtake his body as he went down the stairs.  
  
“You and the fairy had another quarrel?” Mockery. At first, Percy didn’t catch where the voice came from. When he turned and saw Chris, he quickly pinned him roughly against the wall. He felt surrounded by the thug’s friends, but he couldn’t waste time in a meaningless fight.  
  
“HOSPITAL?!” Chris and his friends exchanged a look. A girl patted his shoulder, Percy turned so fast he was sure his neck was going to resent it the next day.  
  
“374 Stockholm Street. I’ll drive you,” the beautiful girl with blue eyes said. Percy’s eyes watered more than they already were. He was shoved by Chris, his balance failed him. “See you downstairs, Percy,” the young woman said and he watched her go.  
Everything was happening so fast. His mind was full of thoughts of Nico.  
  
He didn’t remember how he got the teenager down, (the girl’s boyfriend helped him.) he barely remembers getting into the car and the trip to the Hospital in general. He kept rocking himself with Nico’s head against his chest. He kept begging him to stay awake, to say something, to not abandon him.  
The car came to a halt, he heard the couple discuss something and doors being opened. When the tall man tried to take Nico away from him, Percy clung more to the body against his. It was at that moment he realized they had arrived. He ignored them, and he got off of the car by sheer will and carried Nico bridal style.  
  
Percy rushed into the ER as fast as he could. Nico could not die. Not now, not ever.  
He wanted to keep Nico with him. He needed him! “HELP!” He screamed, a couple of nurses and paramedics came to his aid, but they were trying to take Nico away from him. “Don’t let him die. Don’t.” He aggressively fought to keep the 16-year-old with him, but if he wanted him to be saved, he had to reluctantly hand him over to them (or that’s what they told him.). Nico’s body was still shaking, which was good, he thought bitterly.  
  
“Come on, Nico! I love you,” he said. He was out of breath as he tried to catch with the speed of that damned bed with wheels he just forgot the name of. (Brilliant, Percy! Just brilliant.) And it hit him, he—thought he—finally understood the difference in Nico’s voice when he asked him the first time they met. “I _love_ you,” he whispered before one of the nurses stopped him from following into the room.  
  
Percy watched in horror how the hand he’d been holding since they laid Nico down left his as it fell—lifeless. Nico’s silver ring echoing as it hit the floor was the only sound his ears registered. Percy saw red.  
  
“Sir,” a male voice tried to catch his attention. “Sir, please,” called out the nurse. He was blond. “Wait outside.” Percy nodded, absentmindedly. A sad and crooked smile adorned the nurse’s face as he placed Nico’s ring in Percy’s hand.  
“Can you provide us some information about the patient?” He nodded once again, holding onto the ring tightly as the nurse guided him back to the front desk. He answered in auto-pilot the scarce information he knew about the Italian.  
  
He paced for what felt like hours, his heart was racing. Maybe he was arrhythmic, the effects must be wearing off by now. And he needed a fix only to be able to stand the waiting. He never saw the people coming in. He didn’t care to acknowledge the environment around him.  
  
“I’m here to see Nico di Angelo,” a raspy and breathless voice said. The man was agitated and furious. Percy knew that voice. “How’s my son doing?” Percy turned anxiously to face the reason he had a growing fear in his chest.  
  
“U—uncle?” At that, Hades inevitably turned. The man was disheveled, a sight the sea-green eyed thought would never witness. Hades had called Nico his son.  
  
“Perseus,” breathed the man. He was shocked. “ What are _you_ doing here?”  
  
Everything made sense. The reason why Nico’s tattoo looked so familiar. It was the same painting in his uncle’s office. Hades bought as many paintings of Nico as possible. That’s why he encountered him that day in the Art Gallery. (Because Nico was his bastard.)  
Nico’s glint of madness in his eyes it was the same that adorned Hades’. And that stupidly gorgeous face he always did, it was the same expression his uncle possessed when he cocked a brow in silent judgement or curiosity.  
That’s why Jason and Nico knew each other. Nico and Jason are cousins. Therefore, Nico was Percy’s cousin too, and he will never run away from his family’s curse.  
  
Percy laughed bitterly. Violent hysterics were taking over him. Nico was his cousin. He fucked his cousin. He was in love with his fucking cousin.  
Hands seized him by the shoulders, but he slapped them away. Hades seemed so heartbroken, yet he wasn’t as heartbroken as Percy.  
He was furious at him! All of this was Hades’ fault. Their whole family was to blame. Percy kept laughing, he was enraged and he couldn’t stop laughing.  
He placed a considerable distance from his uncle. His hair was now sticky due to all the excessive sweating, his heartbeat raised, and he had trouble breathing. His brain couldn’t process the information.  
  
A strong pain ran through his skull. Again, and again. He didn’t realize he was slamming himself against the—annoyingly white— wall until Hades held him tightly in his arms. Percy fought aggressively against it. He was furious and needed to run out of steam, desperately needed to hit something and be hit in return.  
  
Hades was not allowing him to, though.  
“LET ME GO!” He screamed countless of times until he ran out of breath. Hiccups and sobs replaced the screaming, and he clung to his uncle for dear life. “Don’t let him die,” he sobbed convulsively.  
  
“Perseus,” the tired voice of Hades called for him. He didn’t look up to acknowledge him. “How much did you have?” Asked the lawyer, as if he knew. (And of course, he knew. He received a call from a hospital telling him his son had just had an overdose.)  
Percy felt his mouth dry, which was new. Because last he knew, he got some cocaine and not amphetamines.  
His clammy hands never abandoned the silver skull.  
  
“Not enough,” was his answer.  
(Not enough to die next to him.)

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a simple paragraph I posted on Facebook, and one of my friends asked me where was the rest. That motivated me big time. Thank you Francis ;o;
> 
> Do not expect chapter 2 any time soon. I'll do my best, but we never know. I promise I will close the open gaps I left in here (at least some of them), next chapter will evolve more around Nico than Percy, but everything will be through Percy's POV.  
> I also was thinking on doing an extra fic only for the lemon (it's been so long since I used that word on a fic. OMFG!)


End file.
